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fanficimagery · 4 years

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Friends in High Places

Summary: When Spencer comes home with files to a case that has his team stumped, he's surprised when you- his neighbor for a couple years now- is the person who gives them a new lead to follow. That and that you're ex-SHIELD.

Words: 8K Warnings: This is what I get for starting a rewatch of Criminal Minds and then watching Marvel movies all in one day. Fml. I've never written for Criminal Minds, so please excuse the mediocre-ness of their characterization. I have no idea what I'm doing; I just knew I wanted a crossover between these two fandoms. Also timeline? What are those? All you gotta know is that this is an AU where Bucky's joined the team and Steve DIDN'T ruin the life Peggy Carter would have had. As for the CM side, this is sometime after Hotch has left and Emily took over. Idk.

Having the night off and wanting nothing more than to just be lazy, you're sitting on your couch in your most comfiest clothes and mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr as your TV plays some program on Animal Planet. You're not even paying attention to the program, but the low sound is perfect for background noise.

You're queuing up some art posts that catch your attention, as well as some gif sets of the TV shows you've become a constant viewer of in the past few years, when there's a knock at your door. But not just any knock. It's a specific knock that you and your neighbor came up with after you got to know each other and became fast friends, and it was to let the other know they were home and wanted company. You mostly worked nights and his work schedule was always all over the place, so it's surprising you're both home at the same time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot him a quick text that you'll be over in five.

Spencer Reid is literally the man of every woman's dream, even if they didn't know it. He's cute and adorable and sometimes dangerously hot all rolled into one, and the best thing about it all is that he doesn't even know it. You had met him on one of your first few days in the apartment complex, but unfortunately it was during one of your slight panic attacks when a thunderstorm had caught you off guard while you were sitting in your car and you didn't have an umbrella.

He had seen and heard you freaking out as he was passing by, and knocked on the passenger window. You had collected yourself just long enough to roll the window down a few inches when he asked if you were okay, then proceeded to answer his own question by stating you obviously weren't. When he realized you lived in the same complex and asked if he could climb inside your car and out of the storm, you had stared at him in confusion until he realized that might have been a bit weird since you were strangers. He stammered his way through his explanation of being an FBI agent and after showing you his badge you had let him in.

You didn't have to tell him what was making you panic and he proceeded to keep your mind occupied. He asked about you and where you had moved in from, and spewed random facts about anything to temporarily make you forget about the storm raging outside. But the torrential rain wasn't letting up and the lightning was only getting closer and closer. He made you realize you had to make a run for it and even offered up his umbrella for you. You had thanked him with tears in your eyes and made a run for it on the count of three when you were settled just enough.

Inside the lobby of your apartment building, you had stood there trembling while Spencer nervously gripped onto the strap of his messenger bag as he stood across from you. When you were shaking the water off his umbrella, you hesitantly told him your reasoning for your freak-out. It wasn't necessarily the thunderstorm, but rather the torrential rain that wasn't letting up. A few years back you had a drowning incident and too much water on your face tended to bring back those memories. He said he understood and then with a sympathy tinged smile he offered to walk you to your apartment. It was a pleasant surprise to learn you had only lived two doors down from him.

Weeks turned into months and months into a couple of years, and you and Spencer were nearly inseparable when you both had the same day/night off.

So after quickly fixing your already messy hair so you don't look like a complete slob, and pulling on a loose hoodie, you grab your phone from the sofa and then head on out. Your socked feet keep your footsteps quiet as you head down to Spencer's door where you knock three times on it before opening it up and stepping inside.

But before you can greet him with a cheesy welcome, he's already calling out, "Hope you haven't had dinner. I picked up some burgers on the way home."

On cue, your stomach grumbles. "God bless you, you beautiful, beautiful man!" You hear him laugh from a room that's not where his kitchen is, so you make a beeline for the kitchen instead of accidentally walking in on him changing. There are two paper bags on the table and you quickly grab plates from his cabinet to separate the food on. Spencer enters the kitchen in a shirt and some gray joggers, and you greet him with a beaming smile. "You're home and in one piece! Yay!" He laughs and you quickly lean in to peck his cheek, not saying a word when you catch sight of his pink tinged cheeks. "You have any beer?"

"Yes. Grab two, please."

"Got it." You hear one of his kitchen chairs creak as you open his refrigerator to grab two beers, you then searching a nearby drawer for the bottle opener. Once you find it, you walk back over to the table and open each beer before handing one over to him.

"Thanks."

"Mhm." Taking a seat, you set your beer down before unwrapping your burger and dumping your fries out onto the plate. "So what's up, doc? You're home surprisingly early."

"We've hit a wall on our latest case," he says, keeping it vague. "There was nothing for us to do while Garcia did her thing, so Emily sent us home for a bit."

"Nice." You take a bite of your burger and your eyes widen when Spencer's eyebrows raise in surprise. When you realize how your words sounded, you're quick to backtrack. "Wait! It's not nice that you hit a wall, but nice that you got sent home! I got free food out of it. That's why it's nice. Not because, you know, you haven't found the-"

"Y/N, you're rambling," Spencer says, lips twitching. "I understood what you meant."

You sigh, shoulders dropping, and grab half a fry to toss at him. "Eat your food, Reid. It's getting cold."

It surprisingly doesn't take long for the two of you to eat your dinner, you both being hungrier than you first thought. After you're done, Spencer turns down a second beer but tells you to help yourself. You do. And on the way into his living room, you bump into one of his chairs and knock his bag over. You gasp and set your beer down on the coffee table, falling to your knees to scoop up his files that had spilled out.

Chuckling, Spencer crouches next to you as you profusely apologize.

"It's okay. It was an accident." A few pictures had slid out of their files and normally you'd just shove them back in because his work wasn't any of your business, but the face staring back up at you makes you pause. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a little heavy on the eyeliner, and a lip piercing. You know her. "Y/N?" You gulp and flip to another picture- brown hair, brown eyes, mole above the right eyebrow. You know her too. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

With trembling hands, you flip back to the first picture and show it to him. "Is Lilian dead?"

Spencer's eyes widen. "You knew her?"

Knew. Past tense. She is dead. Showing him the second picture, you nod sadly. "Kyndall too."

He seems to stop breathing then and from one moment to the next he's opening files and pulling out picture after picture. As you stare at each of them, you grimace and swallow down the bile that's threatening to climb its way up your throat. "Y/N, do you know any of the others?"

Shakily exhaling, you point at each picture. "Desiree, Celeste, Maria. I don't know this one, but I think her last name was Valdez? And then the male is Tim."

Spencer falls on his butt, staring at you in surprise. "That's right. We know their names and their current line of work, but that's about it. Their files only seem to go back a few years. Everything between the end of their high school career and current line of work seems to be scrubbed clean. Do you- do you know of any connection between these people? Any little thing you know can possibly be a big help to my team."

Your gaze darts up to him and your heart sinks. You've managed to keep your past mostly hidden, but now it seems the time has come to tell him what you did before. "They, uh, they're all ex-agents of SHIELD. The real SHIELD, not HYDRA."

"What?"

"If I remember correctly, they were computer analysts or paper pushers. They had gun training as one would think an agent would have, but they were agents who didn't really have to train in hand-to-hand since they never made it out into the field."

"You're positive? How do you know this?"

You gulp. "Because I'm ex-SHIELD too."

Spencer blinks at you, but then in the next moment he's up on his feet and reaching for his phone. He places a quick phone call, stepping into another room and leaving you alone. Your stomach sinks and you have a feeling that this confession might have just put a wedge in your friendship. After all, though ex-agents were being picked up by other different branches of the government, you weren't sure just how exactly trustworthy all ex-agents were being treated.

Spencer reappears, nervously tucking his hair behind his ear. "Do you mind coming with me back to work? My co-workers could really pick your brain about this."

You blink at him. "W-What? You're not mad at me?"

"Mad?" He chuckles. "Why would I be mad? I mean I wish I had known what you did so I didn't have to worry about you being alone when I left for a case, but I can see why you would keep that underwraps. HYDRA made a lot of people paranoid."

"Tell me about it," you mumble. Then after a few seconds, you finally climb up to your own two feet. "Um, just let me go put on some shoes. I'll meet you in the hall."

Spencer's smile and nod eases some of your worries, but you still quickly make an escape to go put on some shoes. Your front door bangs open and you hurry to your hall closet. Yanking open that door, you pull on the first pair of Converse you come across. Then taking a moment to think, you grab a pair of knee high boots that you use every once in a while. Reaching inside, you grab your old badge and a USB stick, sticking your badge in your back pocket and the USB in your front pocket. Then grabbing your keys from the hook by the front door, you shut the door after exiting and lock it. Spencer is waiting down the hall for you and you jog towards him. He tightly smiles and then leads you downstairs, towards his car, and you sit quietly in his passenger seat while he drives.

On the way towards Spencer's place of work, he can't help but ask, "So what exactly did you do with SHIELD if you don't mind me asking."

You shrug. "Cat's out of the bag now, so I don't mind." You chuckle though it kind of falls flat. "I was, uh, a computer analyst for a while. But then I was taken on a field trip with a few agents and we ended up trading bullets with several not so nice guys. The field agents liked the way I handled myself and requested I level up, so to speak."

"And you never thought of trying to get hired on with anyone else? If I recall, the FBI and CIA were picking up ex-SHIELD agents after the fall."

You shake your head. "Remember that drowning incident I mentioned? Or the reason why I can't take baths anymore and have to turn my shower on and off between washing?" Spencer hums, remembering what he thought were odd quirks until he realized it was all because of your fear of certain amounts of water. "That drowning incident was HYDRA's fault. I spent months in rehab and just- well, no one wanted a damaged agent."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm kind of glad they didn't. I quite like my neighbor who picks up take-out and bakes sweets for me after a rough case."

You try not to think too much about his words and instead choose to smile at him before looking out your window. The drive is only about twenty minutes and fortunately the radio fills in the semi-tense silence.

When you get to the FBI building, Spencer escorts you inside with a hand at the small of your back. You're given a visitor's badge and you quickly clip it onto the hem of your hoodie. The elevator ride up to the BAU's main floor is a short one and it opens up to a wall of glass where you can see several desks behind it.

Spencer opens the door for you and you can't help but make yourself seem as small as possible. You cross your arms over your chest, hugging yourself as you enter the room. There are several people milling about, but no one pays you any attention. Only one female, dark bangs covering her forehead while the rest of her hair falls just passed her shoulders, heads towards you once she spots you and Spencer.

"Y/N," Spencer says, introducing you to the woman as she nears, "this is our Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Emily, this is my good friend Y/N Y/L/N."

Emily is all smiles as she reaches to shake your hand. "Hi! It's nice to finally meet the girl who takes care of our boy wonder after cases."

Spencer nervously chuckles and you find yourself genuinely grinning. "It's nice to finally meet you too. I've heard some funny stories about all you guys."

"I will neither confirm nor deny any of those."

Emily then leads you towards a room where three others are waiting. "Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Friend of Spence and ex-agent of SHIELD. Y/N, this is Special Agent Derek Morgan and Jennifer Jareau, and our very own technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

Everyone happily greets you and Jennifer even gives you the go ahead to call her JJ. You're offered a seat at their round table and you glance at their board filled with pictures of people you used to work with. Spencer sits next to you and you offer him a feeble smile when he reaches beneath the table to squeeze your knee.

"Alright, guys, I know we're all interested in the girl who lives next to Spence, but we need to get down to business." Spencer groans as his teammates all chuckle. "So Y/N, is there anything else you can give us about the victims? What exactly did they do? Did they all personally know each other or just enough because they were coworkers? Even the smallest bit of info that you think is inconsequential can help us."

"I, uh, I can do you one better," you say. You shift in your seat and reach into your front pocket, pulling out the USB stick. "Since I figure all those NDA's we signed are now null and void thanks to Agent Romanoff's data dump, and because you're Spencer's friend, I feel comfortable handing this over. It kind of made me nervous keeping it in my house anyway."

You slide the USB towards Penelope and she gasps, snatching it up and holding it as if it were the holy grail. "Is this- are these files? Because let me tell you, I tried to download those files as soon as they hit the net but there were just so many and not even our WiFi could download it fast enough before they were scrubbed clean."

You grin and nod, chuckling at Penelope's squeal. "I started collecting everyone's files that I could get my hands on. I started with the baby agents- agents whose files wouldn't toss up red flags when their files were opened. The more clearance I was granted, the more files I was able to download."

"Oh my god. Yes! You are my new favorite person." Penelope rushes around the table, bending down to kiss your cheek with a loud mwah! "Reid, keep this one. I'll be in my lair."

The group all chuckle as you blush, but then Agent Morgan is clearing his throat. "Not that I'm not grateful about what you're giving up, but isn't what you were doing illegal?"

You shrug. "It possibly was, but then Director Fury realized I was memorizing it all and didn't have a problem with it so long as those files didn't leave my office."

"But you have them on you now," Morgan says.

"Yeah. The USB was hidden within my belongings in my office. My office surprisingly survived unscathed after Captain Rogers crashed the helicarriers into the Potomac, and my stuff was packed up and shipped to me while I was in rehab."

"If you don't mind me asking," JJ wonders, "but were you at the Triskelion when HYDRA came out or..?"

"I don't mind the questions at all," you say. "It's actually quite nice to talk about it with people who aren't eyeing me suspiciously." The group flashes you small smiles. "I was actually on a consulting job with a recently formed SHIELD team whose base was a humongous plane that was constantly on the move. Anyway, one of those trusted team members ended up being HYDRA. He led a group of his men onto the plane, killed half of us to get control of it, and then locked me and two scientists into a holding pod before dropping us into the middle of the ocean."

"The drowning incident," Spencer suddenly realizes.

You smile sadly at him, nodding. "We sank to the bottom of the ocean floor. There were three of us and only one little oxygen tank." Spencer grabs your hand beneath the table and you're grateful for the grounding pressure. "We gave it to Jemma. Fitz and I were going to attempt to swim, but we didn't make it. Fitz blacked out first, then me, and then- then nothing. We woke up in a trusted SHIELD facility, and Fitz and I couldn't operate like we used to. With our brains having been deprived of oxygen, it messed us up for a while."

"Wow," Emily says. "I am so sorry."

You shrug at her with a small smile. "It was all part of the job."

"What do you do now?" Morgan asks. "I hate to say it, but with all our victims being ex-SHIELD, and you as well, we have to rule you out as-"

"I get it." You smile in reassurance at him since it kind of pained him to admit that you could be a suspect and have Spencer glare at him for even thinking it. "I'm a bouncer at a bar most nights."

Morgan chuckles. "A bouncer? You!?"

"Hey! I might not look like much, but I did train with Avengers. I could probably give you a run for your money, agent Morgan."

"Okay, okay," he muses.

"I also work as private security for Stark Industries when they throw galas. If you need the exact dates I've been working, I can get that for you."

"Please," JJ says. "Spencer's already vouched for you, but protocol and all that. You understand."

"I do. I'll just- I'll text my bosses to email my clock-ins and clock-outs."

Pulling out your phone, you immediately text your boss at the bar and Pepper Potts. You keep the explanation vague as to why you need it, but assure them it's very much needed for a case the FBI is working on. They completely understand and you even have to make Pepper swear not to get Tony involved.

The emails come in not even ten minutes later and JJ happily takes your phone to run the dates with Penelope, promising to be quick about it. You remain in your seat, watching as Morgan and Emily walk towards the board and start tossing their thoughts back and forth over what they've learned so far.

Your hands are atop the table, thumbs chipping away the already chipped nail polish you have on. The second you raise your hand with the intent of chewing on your thumb nail, Spencer catches your hand. "You okay?" He quietly asks and you stare at him. He then lets your hand go as you pull them back into your lap.

"Yeah. Just getting kind of tired. And a bit anxious. Someone's targeting ex-SHIELD agents and I- well I'm one of those people."

"No one is going to hurt you, Y/N. I promise."

You feebly smile, not taking his words to heart because you know he can't actually keep that promise. He might want to, but you know better than to take these types of promises seriously in situations such as this.

JJ reappears, a bright smile in place as she hands you your phone. "I'm pretty sure Penelope programmed her number in there."

"That's fine." You chuckle. You lay your phone on the table, giving your attention back to Emily and Morgan who's now being joined by JJ.

"Guys, Garcia is having a ball right now. There's so much information she wasn't privy to before, but I'm not sure how any of it is going to help more than Y/N already has." Emily and Morgan look at JJ, waiting for her to explain. "We already know victims weren't the best at hand-to-hand, which the unsub clearly took advantage of. But we need to know what they were presently doing and if they were checking in with anyone because there are a lot of dead ex-agents. That's not a coincidence. Either someone who's ex-SHIELD or HYDRA is picking off ex-agents one by one, or someone who has a grudge against SHIELD found a list of ex-agents and is working their way down the list."

"Where do we even start?" Morgan asks, incredulous. "SHIELD technically doesn't exist anymore and those who are operating in the shadows are nearly impossible to track down thanks to the Avengers. None of them are exactly easy to get a hold of after General Ross made it his personal mission to bring in James Buchanan Barnes for crimes HYDRA made him commit. They like working on their own."

"We'd have to jump through a bunch of hoops just to get a face to face," Emily says, sighing. "If we're lucky they'll want in on the case since it's related to SHIELD."

"Um, actually.." You nervously raise your hand, calling all attention on you. "You can bypass all those hoops."

Emily stares at you, sitting on the edge of the table as she crosses her arms over her chest. "You still have connections, don't you?" At your sheepish grin, she huffs in amusement. Every other team member straightens with hope in their expressions.

"Agent Prentiss, I am the connection." As you pick up your phone once more, JJ and Morgan step closer to the table. You scroll through your contacts, finding the one you need and tapping on it. Then putting it on speaker, you try to soothe your nerves as the ringing through the speaker seems to make the atmosphere of the room become tense.

The ringing stops as the connection is made and then, "Well, well, well. If it isn't my second favorite human on God's green Earth." You roll your eyes at the charm oozing from him. "What kind of trouble are you in now, doll?"

Emily and JJ's eyes widen, and you shake your head in amusement. "Put your boyfriend on the line, Barnes. I'm calling in a favor."

"Are you calling to finally take us up on that offer of joining us for a night?"

Everyone in the room seems to freeze, although Morgan is highly enjoying where this seems to be going. You close your eyes, scrunching up your nose. You can't believe they just heard that. "Steve really needs to put a muzzle on you."

"Well if you're into that-"

"Bucky!" You bark. "You're on speaker." Morgan finally loses the battle with his laughter and you wish you can sink into your chair. Instead you have to settle for just insanely blushing and covering your face with one hand. "I'm currently with the BAU of the FBI. They have a case that they could use some help on."

"Oh." There's a beat of silence. "Christ, Y/N. You should have stopped me sooner. Stevie's gonna lecture me again. Hold on. I'll go get him."

The line goes silent and you nervously meet Spencer's gaze. He's the only one who doesn't seem as amused which is why you don't find Bucky's greeting as funny as you normally would. Something about his expression actually makes you wish Bucky hadn't said anything.

"Y/N?"

You sit a little straighter in your seat. "Hey, Cap."

"What's going on? Buck mentioned the FBI."

"Uh yeah. I'm with Agents Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, and Doctor Reid," you tell him. "They've been dealing with a case that had gone cold and well I kind of made a connection they hadn't seen before because they couldn't, and uh I'm sure they could use your help."

"What was the connection?"

You look at Emily and she nods, letting you tell him. "Steve, all the victims are ex-SHIELD. Specifically agents who wouldn't have had too much training; who couldn't hold their own without a gun in hand."

There's a sharp inhale. "What do they need?"

Emily's eyes close in relief and she holds her hand out for your phone. You happily oblige her and hand it over. "Captain Rogers, this is Special Agent Emily Prentiss. I'm the one in charge of my team here."

"Hello, Agent Prentiss. How can my team and I be of help?"

"Well we mainly need to pick your brains and ask some questions. We're aware that SHIELD is still operating to an extent, even if it is in the shadows, so we'd like to know if the victims were still affiliated with you. If we're dealing with someone who is or was from SHIELD or HYDRA, we'd like to have you involved since you have more experience with how they operate."

"That's fine. I'll gather my team and set up a room. Are you okay to set up base here in the Compound?"

"Yes!" JJ says, starting everyone. She clears her throat and calms herself. "Yes."

Steve chuckles. "Very well. Gather everything you need. I'll be sending a quinjet for you all since it'll be faster. Y/N knows the pick-up location."

"Thank you so much, Captain Rogers."

Emily hands you the phone and seeing that the call is still connected, you say, "Hey, Steve? Thanks for this."

"It's not a problem, sweetheart. Are you okay though? You're an ex-shield agent yourself."

"I know, but nothing has been out of the ordinary. I'm okay."

"Good. You coming too?"

"I was actually planning on going home after driving the agents to the location. I'm not an active agent anymore, bub."

"I know you're not, but with that agent neighbor of yours coming here I rather have you here as well so we can keep an eye on you." You sigh at his protectiveness. "Bring a change of clothes for a week. I'll have Nat get a hold of your boss and let him know some of what's going on so you'll have a job to go back to once all of this is over."

"You're a pain in the ass, Rogers."

Steve laughs. "See you soon, Y/L/N."

The call ends and you set your phone down. Glancing up, you smile sheepishly at the team staring at you. "So, uh, I guess I'm tagging along. Sorry about that."

Emily opens her mouth, her words getting stuck as she shakes her head in amusement. "Don't be. You got us working with the Avengers within minutes as opposed to taking hours, possibly even a day if I had to put in a request."

Morgan whistles appreciatively. "This is insane. I'm gonna give Garcia a heads up about our field trip. Expect another tag a long. I don't think she'll pass up this opportunity."

You chuckle as JJ says, "Rossi is going to be so pissed he took a vacation and missed out on working with the Avengers." Then looking at you, she adds, "Do you think Spider-Man will be there? My son absolutely loves him and I would be the coolest mom ever if I got a picture or video with him."

"I'm sure Pe- uh, I'm sure Spider-Man will make an appearance," you say. "He's always hanging around after his classes are done for the day."

JJ's eyes widen. "You totally know who he is."

"I do. And let me tell you, he absolutely adores kids. Ask and he'll happily oblige."

"Guys. Guys!" Emily says. "Case first, fangirl later."

Spencer snorts and you elbow him on reflex. He grumbles, Emily and JJ grin, and you innocently smile at Emily. "Sorry, Agent Prentiss. I'll just- I'll go sit on that couch over there so I'm not in the way."

Emily starts telling her team what needs to be done, repeating herself again when Morgan returns with a clearly excited Garcia. Morgan informs everyone he'll go gather the boxes of files while Spencer immediately sets out to disassemble the board of pictures and post-its. Garcia excitedly rushes back to her own office to pack up a few things, while Emily and JJ figure out what all they'll need to be taking with them.

To keep yourself occupied, you waste a few minutes by playing a game on your phone.

You're not sure how much time has passed, but someone hesitantly sitting next to you takes your attention off your phone. Glancing up, you see Spencer sitting there and realize everyone else has cleared out of the room. "We should be ready to head out in about ten minutes."

"Oh. Okay."

There's a moment of silence and then, "Soo.. Bucky Barnes." He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, and you can tell his amusement isn't exactly genuine. "He's- he's not the type of person I pictured you with if I'm being honest."

"Barnes?" You snort. "Ew. No." Spencer seems surprised by your reply. "Bucky likes to flirt with me because he knows it won't go anywhere. He's well aware of the actual person I have a crush on and he respects that. Mostly."

"O-Oh? So there is someone in the picture then?"

"Well, not really," you say. Squirming in your seat, you're not totally comfortable with the direction this talk has taken until you see you're not the only one squirming. Spencer is avoiding eye contact, but he's also clearly awaiting your answer. There's also a telltale flush up the side of his neck to the tips of his ears, and- oh. Oh. Seeing how nervous Spencer suddenly is makes you feel better. So better, in fact, that you feel you should speak up about something that you've kept secret for a while. "Well I mean I'd like there to be," you say, grinning when he freezes. "The thing is, he actually lives down the hall from me." Cue him holding his breath. "He's totally adorable, but also secretly hot which is so unfair, and he works for the FBI." Spencer's head snaps in your direction, eyes wide. You smile sheepishly and shrug. "The only downfall is that he's way too good for someone like me, so I settled for friendship."

Your heart is beating terribly fast and the only thing keeping you glued to your seat is Spencer grinning bashfully, cheeks pink. "If you ask me, I don't think he's too good at all. I-If anything, he probably thinks you were too good for him which is why he never made his own feelings known."

Relief washes over you and you laugh. "We're idiots, huh?"

Lips pressed together, he smiles wide. Then, "A little."

"Rain check on this discussion? We've got Avengers to greet and you have a case to solve."

"Of course!" Spencer hastily stands, offering you a hand up. Grinning, you take it and let him pull you to your feet while shoving your phone into your back pocket. "Wherever we're going, is it okay to leave our vehicles there?"

"Yeah. It's private property and pretty secluded. No one gets in without codes."

"Okay then. We'll swing by our building for your bag and then you can direct one of the drivers while the other follows."

"Sure. Sounds like a plan."

Because of the connection between the list of victims, you have an escort up to your apartment while you pack a bag. Emily and JJ happily accompany you, leaving Spencer to fend for himself with Morgan and Garcia.

In your apartment, the two female agents waste no time in subtly trying to figure out your exact feelings for their dear friend and you take great amusement in skirting around the answer they so desperately try to pry out of you. And it's only after your duffel is packed do you tell them you and Spencer had admitted some things to each other, but you are planning to talk about it further after their case is closed. JJ seems oddly giddy and Emily coos about their boy genius growing up. You blush, relieved that they've taken a to liking to you. Then when you get back to the vehicles, you know Spencer has been questioned as well given the smirks being sent your way.

The drive to the field isn't long and the team is impressed by the level of security for a seemingly abandoned airfield. There's an unmanned gate which you get off at to speak for voice recognition, punch in a specific code, give a hand print, and then secretly have your forefinger pricked for a blood sample. Then when the gate swings open, you quickly climb back into the car and instruct Emily towards the second gate where a guard sits. The guard greets you warmly and, after you introduce those in the vehicle with you, he assures you he knows all about the impending pick-up.

"So what exactly are we in for?" Morgan asks. You're all waiting in an opened hangar, the boxes they'd packed sitting on the ground.

"Your perceptions about them are about to be changed," you admit. "I'm sure you've all told yourselves that the Avengers are just like you and I, but you have no idea how true that it is until you meet them."

"Who is the nicest?" JJ wonders.

You take a moment to think about. "Honestly? They're all nice, but if I had to choose I'd choose Spider-Man. It's hard not to like him. The kid's a puppy."

"Who gives the best hugs?" Garcia quickly adds.

Everyone chuckles at her eagerness. "That's a tough one," you say. You ponder on it for a moment. "I say it's a tie between Steve and Thor. They hug full on, chest to chest. None of that half-assed, one arm hug nonsense."

Garcia practically swoons. "Oh to be wrapped up in those beefy Asgardian arms." You snort and shake your head in amusement.

Another twenty minutes pass and you regale Spencer and his friends about some of your work with SHIELD. But all too soon the telltale sound of a quinjet reaches your ears and when you look up you see one incoming.

"Well that was hella fast," Garcia muses when she spots the quinjet herself.

JJ grins. "Stark technology. Gotta love it."

Emily nods in agreement. "We definitely need an upgrade."

Whoever is flying the quinjet lands it with ease, and Spencer, Morgan, and JJ immediately pick up their boxes. Shouldering the strap of your duffel bag, you start heading towards the quinjet when the ramp is being lowered and the team follows a few steps behind.

Clint Barton walks off the ramp and you chuckle, hurrying your steps. Both your arms go around his neck and one of his arms wraps low around your waist. "Short stack," he says. "What trouble did you get into now?"

"Why does everyone assume I'm in trouble?" You pout as you pull back, pinching his cheek and cooing before stepping back out of range. "And what are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be on the farm with those precious little heathens?"

"I was, but Laura had leftovers for Nat and Wanda. I was just dropping them off when Steve rounded up the team."

"Oh nice." Then turning around, you gesture to the BAU team. "Clint, meet Special Agents Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Doctor Spencer Reid, and the brains of the beauty of the team Miss Penelope Garcia. Guys, meet Clint Barton formerly known as Hawkeye."

Everyone shakes hands, with the exception of Garcia who slaps his hand away and pulls him into a hug.

"Baby girl," Morgan laughs, "what are you doing?"

She squeezes a chuckling Clint before letting go, she then whirling on her own friend. "This is my first time meeting the Avengers. Do not take this from me!" Morgan's eyebrows raise in amusement, the whole team and Clint chuckling.

Then not wasting anymore time, Clint ushers everyone on board. He shows them where the boxes and your bag can be stowed before taking the pilot's seat up front, only to be joined by Morgan moments later in the co-pilot seat. You show Emily and Garcia how to buckle in, and then take your own seat between JJ and Spencer.

Clint counts down for lift off and you grip your harness as you feel the quinjet take flight. Spencer nudges you with his elbow and you glance at him, grinning to assure him you're okay. But when you can feel the quinjet picking up speed thanks to the feeling in your gut, you close your eyes and are thankful that no one brings up the fact that you're actually really nervous right now.

Your left hand is grabbed and gently pried from your grip on the harness, and your eyes fly open in surprise. You look towards your left and JJ smiles at you reassuringly as she squeezes your hand in comfort. Then when your right hand is grabbed and given the same treatment, you glance over at Spencer and can't help but blurt, "I-I've never been nervous about flying before."

"It's perfectly normal to subconsciously be nervous or anxious after we trudged up your past earlier," he says. "Just close your eyes and relax. We won't let anything happen to you."

You nod, smiling shakily and turn your head to rest it against the headrest of your seat. Then closing your eyes, you're grateful for the team not asking you anything for the duration of the ride. Instead, they save their questions for Clint who's all too happy to answer what he can.

You know the Compound's come into view when Morgan whistles in appreciation. Clint lands to quinjet with ease and then everyone's unbuckling themselves when he gives the go ahead. Before you can grab your bag, however, Spencer is grabbing it and beaming at you when you sigh with mock annoyance.

One by one the BAU team disembarks after Clint, leaving you and Spencer to bring up the rear. You hear Clint introducing everyone and notice everyone's congregated around in a circle. Then just as you and Spencer join, you notice that Garcia is petting Bucky's vibranium arm. You snort, catching an amused Steve's attention.

"Y/N," he greets.

"Steve." You step forward, briefly hugging him and then Bucky. As you step back in line, you gesture towards Spencer to introduce him. "This is Doctor Spencer Reid. Spence, this is Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes."

Steve leans in for a handshake, but then pauses mid-shake. "Wait. Spencer Reid? The Spencer Reid?" He grins. "Are you- are you and the agent neighbor one in the same?"

You sharply inhale, eyes widening when everyone turns to stare at your rapidly blushing face. Steve's grin turns rather teasing and your eyes narrow at him. "Two words; octopus dick." Steve's amusement vanishes, and everyone turns towards a now blushing Steve as Bucky guffaws. You turn your gaze on him next. "I don't know why you're laughing, dolphin boy."

Bucky immediately shuts up and Steve shakily grins before addressing the team. "Okay! Now that we've all been introduced, lets get inside before Y/N starts a war she can't finish."

Morgan and JJ are the only two to follow after Steve, Bucky, and Clint. Emily and Garcia remain with you and Spencer, and both females look to you with pleading eyes.

"Please tell me how four innocuous words got two supersoldiers to blush like that?" Garcia asks, Emily nodding along with her. "I need to know!"

"Sorry, girls," you tell them. "Those stories get out and I'm dead meat."

The both of them grumble about not getting answers, but move on without fuss. Before you can follow, however, Spencer steps closer to you. "You won't even tell me?" He asks, voice quiet.

You huff. "You already know."

Spencer's answering smile is enough to make you roll your eyes and he's quick to keep pace with you as you enter the building. There are numerous people milling about, but since it's late most of the trainees are in bed. Every piece of furniture and fixture still seems brand spanking new, so you don't blame the BAU team looking around in awe.

Heading into the chosen office, you lead Spencer inside before catching Steve's attention. "I'm gonna let you guys get to work. I'll be setting up in my room if anyone needs me."

No one objects, so after taking your bag from Spencer you take your leave. You leisurely make your way towards the living quarters of the compound and find your room with ease. Opening the door, the familiarity of it brings a tired smile to your face. The lamps have been turned on, awaiting your arrival, and even the TV has been turned on with its volume on low. The walls and bedding is the same as everyone else has, but you know it's your room because of the personal pictures on the dresser and bedside tables.

Since you're going to be staying until the case is over and then probably a couple days more after, you decide to put your clothes in the dresser rather than leave it in your bag for the entire time. After that's done and you've switched your TV to a movie you like, you pick out a standard set of black sleep pants and a blue/gray shirt that every trainee at the compound wears to bed so you can shower before crawling into bed yourself.

You're grateful for the private bathroom and even more grateful to see the products you use already waiting for you. You turn on the water to the shower, grab a towel from the bathroom closet and set it on the counter along with your change of clothes before you start to strip.

You keep your hair in a topknot as you shower since you had washed it earlier that morning, so your shower is over within ten minutes. Then by the time you're dried off and dressed in fresh clothes, and your teeth are brushed, you exit the bathroom.

Stepping into your room, you startle at the sight of Spencer sitting on the small cushioned bench at the foot of your bed. He's staring up at the moving playing, the corner of his lips quirked up in amusement. But at your small gasp, he looks towards you, lips spreading into a fond smile.

"Captain Rogers said it was okay that I wait for you. I don't mean to intrude."

"Spence," you huff a laugh and then continue on towards your bed, "we have keys to each other's apartments and sometimes barge in without warning. I think you waiting in here is more than okay."

"Just needed to make sure," he says, "what with this being a new place and all."

"Mhmm." You sit on the edge of the bed that's right behind the bench, putting your feet on the cushion beside Spencer and practically hug your knees as you stare at him. "How did everyone settle in?"

"E-Everyone's good." Spencer turns sideways, grinning up at you. "We got our own rooms here so we don't have to be back and forth from a hotel. When we left, Garcia was being introduced to the holographic tables and now I don't think she's going to sleep tonight."

You chuckle. "I knew she'd fall prey to all the pretty tech here." He chuckles along with you. "And how did everyone take the news to hearing the details about the case?"

"They're taking it very personally," Spencer tells you. "Mr. Barton even asked to stay on as a consultant. He and agent Romanoff are not very happy."

"Well they might not be as smart as you, Doc, but I think they're going to be a big help. You guys will be out of here in no time with the bad guy in cuffs."

"Is that so?" He muses. You grin and nod. "And if we're out of here in no time, are we still waiting until you go home for that discussion we still need to have?"

"We can table the discussion," you say, "but I really need to do this before I chicken out."

"Do what?"

Without thinking too much more about it, you reach out to cradle Spencer's jaw in the palms of your hands. You bring his face closer to yours, pausing with barely an inch between your lips. It seems he's held his breath in surprise, but when he notices you're waiting for some sort of unspoken permission it's him who closes the gap.

There's nothing heated or rushed about the kiss- it merely being a chaste kiss of several little pecks before he catches your bottom lip between his teeth. You smile, your lip popping free from where it stretches, and you giggle as he leans up to chase your lips.

"Ahem." The interruption causes you to jerk back from Spencer, eyes wide when you catch sight of Bucky leaning against your door jamb and looking quite smug. "Hope I'm not interrupting." You groan, laying your forehead on Spencer's shoulder while he quietly snorts. "So with this new development, does this mean our threesome will now be a foursome?"

You can't help but laugh and sit straight once more so you can see your friend. Unfortunately, the question actually gives you pause and there's a split second where you actually give it thought. But in the next moment your nose wrinkles and you shake your head. "What? No!"

He points at you, eyes gleaming. "You paused! You paused which means that no just turned into a maybe. I'm gonna go tell Stevie we're back in the game!"

"James!" Spencer finally laughs and you groan again when Bucky pushes off the door jamb, whistling as he walks away. "I hate my friends."

"Just wait until Morgan finds out. It'll be worse." Spencer chuckles as you sigh, and he gets up before walking around to the side of your bed. He places his palms down on the mattress, leaning over you to kiss you once more. "I'm gonna go to my room before Sergeant Barnes brings back reinforcements."

"Okay. I'll probably see you around the compound, but I'll do my best to stay out of your hair while you're looking for your unsub."

"Are we still talking after?"

"Of course. Well we can either talk or order in some Chinese and hole up in one of our apartments for a weekend. Your call."

"I like the second option," he says.

"I figured you would." You kiss him one last time and then push against his chest. "Now go. We'll figure things out soon."

#spencer reid x reader #marvel gen fic x reader #avengers imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #marvel imagine #spencer reid #steve rogers #bucky barnes #clint barton #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #derek morgan #fanficimagery

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margueritehall · 3 years

Photo

CAN YOU SEE RIGHT THROUGH ME? - YMCULC

all the king's horses, all the king's men, couldn’t put me together again

( the archer ; taylor swift )

marguerite ( maggie ) brynn hall, the gentle bad-ass

“ show me a hero and i’ll write you a tragedy. ”

― f. scott fitzgerald

– BASIC INFORMATION –

» full name: marguerite brynn hall

» nicknames: maggie, mags, margie

» age: twenty seven ( at time of snap ), thirty two ( at time of blip )

» birthday: january eighth, nineteen-ninety-one, ten fifty-five in the morning

» birthplace: philadelphia, pennsylvania

» zodiac sign: capricorn sun, libra moon, aries ascendent

» current residence: new york, new york

» gender: cis female

» occupation: social worker for the stark relief foundation displaced children division, later avenger trainee

– HEALTH –

» physical health: overall, maggie is in excellent health. she works out most weekday mornings and tends to eat a balanced diet. she doesn’t drink too often or smoke at all. she knows that her health conscious habits stem from her need to control everything that she is able to but that doesn’t stop her from being set in her ways.

» scars: she has several small scars from various bumps and scrapes but there is a sizeable scar on the front of her left shoulder from a car accident while she was a freshman in college. a driver t-boned her small sedan in an intersection when she was on her way home from a final exam. when she woke up in the hospital, with both of her parents at her bedside, she had stitches stretching approximately three inches from her clavicle towards her upper arm.

» broken (any) bones: surprisingly, despite being quite active, maggie hasn’t ever broken a bone. she’s quite graceful from taking dance classes since she could walk until she graduated high school.

– MENTAL HEALTH –

» extrovert or introvert: since getting older, maggie has become comfortable with the knowledge that she is a relatively private person. when she was younger, she enjoyed being in crowds however, she now tends to retract into her shell when surrounded by too many people.

» logical or creative: maggie is incredibly logical; she is very formulaic in her thought patterns. when it comes to problem solving, maggie has all but got it down to a science which can be effective but she’d be incorrect to say it was without fault.

» optimist or pessimist: neither term seems to describe the woman very well; she feels as though she’d call herself a realist. the world has let her down more times than she can count so she makes an effort to always adjust her expectations towards the most-likely event.

» phobias / fears:

» problems: maggie was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive personality disorder and generalized anxiety disorder when she was sixteen. she goes through occasional bouts of depression but she doesn’t find it to be chronic. though undiagnosed, following the death of her parents, she experiences the effects of post-traumatic stress.

– PERSONALITY –

» goals / dreams: maggie has always wanted to improve the world around her. when she was a little girl, she told her parents that she wanted to be the first doctor to go to space. when she found out that she’d have to be in space for months at a time, she quickly changed her plans. the brain always fascinated her and so she dove headfirst into her newfound passion. following the deaths of her parents, maggie wanted to help others like she wished that she had been and so she, once more, switched gears and went into social work.

» quirks / habits: maggie is a creature of habit. each morning, she wakes up and opens the curtains around the house before pouring herself a cup of cold brew coffee with cinnamon syrup and oat milk. she makes her bed and begins her day. when she gets home from work, she turns on her fairy lights and fans before removing her makeup and changing in to cozy clothes. as for quirks, maggie wouldn’t say she has any but her friends would be quick to point out her concentration face-- whenever she gets deep in to a hard task, her eyebrows screw up tightly and her lips purse. she doesn’t like to look in mirrors when the room is dark, she only gets out of bed on the left side, and she habitually sings in the shower even when she isn’t home alone.

» likes: precipitative weather like rain storms or snow ( especially thunderstorms ), vinyl records, lighting candles and allowing them to light the room, cooking or baking anything from scratch, old books with notes in the margin from an owner long forgotten, astronomy and any associated phenomena ( especially eclipses and meteor showers ), fleetwood mac and other classic rock icons, acts of service from loved ones, dogs with smushed faces, taylor swift, watching films (or rewatching films, whether new or old), freshly brewed tea, watching the sun set and staying awake to see it rise again, wisteria vines twisting around a fence, ‘casablanca’, f. scott fitzgerald novels, anything that is a dusty shade of sage green, tom hanks, vanilla bean ice cream (not french vanilla), using a polaroid camera to capture a moment, iced coffee with cinnamon, the beach during winter when the northern shores get a little bit icy, long drives at night with the windows down, sitting on the roof in a companionable silence with a loved one, the color of deep maroon rust, cozy throw blankets and an unnecessary amount of pillows on the couch and bed

» dislikes: too much physical touch, indifference or apathy in the face of injustice, the deafening sound of crickets and cicadas at night, showing any signs of vulnerability, open-toed shoes, powdery or floral scents, olives, thin pillows, overhead lighting (lamps only, thank you very much), lack of a routine, being unable to read situations and prepare adequately, not feeling in control of any situation, harlequin novels, ladybugs and any other insects, disorganization (physically or emotionally.)

» flaws: she feels the need to always be the strong one that she often doesn’t allow herself the freedom to feel without pushing it down. she has a habit of not letting people in, especially people who are new to her, and even when she does, she is always terrified that she’ll lose them like she’s lost most other people that she loved. she is a control freak and can sometimes be a little boss.

– FAMILY –

» parents: ; phillip hugh hall ( father / pierce brosnan ) ; allison marie hall née clark ( mother / jamie lee curtis )

» maternal grandparents: ; richard ernest clark ( grandfather / tony curtis ) ; virginia ruth clark née franklin ( grandmother / janet leigh )

» paternal grandparents: ; hugh alexander hall ( grandfather / kris kristofferson ) ; marguerite joan hall née green ( grandmother / ellen burstyn )

» sibling(s): n/a

» children: n/a

– APPEARANCE –

» height: five feet, two inches

» weight: one hundred fifteen pounds

» eyes: maggie’s eyes are one of her most striking features. the espresso brown orbs are speckled with golden flecks; they’re a rounded, almost almond shape.

» hair: her hair is chestnut brown and it has a tendency to gleam copper and slightly golden when the light reflects off of it. for the majority of her life, she had a tendency of keeping the gentle waves cropped into a side-parted, blunt bob that rested just above her shoulders. she typically wore her hair straight or blown out. following the snap, she allowed it to grow out beyond its typical length. she keeps it trimmed to just below her shoulder blades with a set of wispy curtain bangs to compliment the natural waves that she now maintains.

» face and complexion: maggie has a light skin tone that tans in the sun. she has no freckles on her face but has quite a few down her chest and arms; none of them are very dark. she has a round face which can almost be cherubic but as she’s gotten older, she has developed a sharp jawline that makes her look more mature despite her stature. her rounded almond eyes are lined with thick, dark lashes. she has a small button nose that pinches minutely at its tip as it turns slightly upwards. her brows are full and straight with only a slight arch. she has full cheeks with small dimples that frame her smile. maggie’s lips are typically tinted a red berry shade; her bottom lip is slightly more voluminous than its top counterpart which is home to a sharp cupid’s bow.

» build: maggie is petite, to say the least. she stands just slightly over five feet tall and weighs just over one hundred pounds. though slim, her figure is a narrow hourglass. despite her size, she’s quite agile and strong. years of channeling all of her emotions in to ballet as a child caused a habit that has yet to die. when she feels the need to get rid of excess emotion, she runs or attends a fitness class to channel that away.

» defining marks: when she was eighteen, maggie and her best friend poppy got matching tattoos. on the inside of her left wrist, there is a small crescent moon to match a sun on poppy’s. following her parents death, she got a second tattoo and on the inside of her upper arm, close to the crook of her elbow, there is one of two ravens perched on a branch. several months after the blip, she got another tattoo. on her right side, on her ribs under her bra-line, there’s a small star housed within four concentric circles.

» dress style: maggie’s fashion sense is on the border between classic and trendy. she doesn’t stray too far away from her comfort zone or wear too many patterns. she tends to stick to jewel tones and neutrals. for her work, her style tends to be business casual-- typically a blouse with a skirt or wide legged trousers and a heel. when she’s at home, an oversized sweater and leggings or pajama shorts are her go-to uniform. if she’s out running errands, she loves a flowy skirt or a pair of mom jeans with one of her dad’s old, classic band tees. her shoes are typically a revolving door of plain keds or converse, ankle boots, or a small heel.

» faceclaim: jenna louise coleman

– ROMANTIC & SEXUAL –

» marital status: she is unmarried.

» sexual preference: although maggie is primarily heterosexual, she’s never been closed off to the idea of dating anyone of the same gender if she found that she was attracted to them.

» ever had sex: she had sex for the first time when she was a freshman in college; it was with her boyfriend at the time, nicholas gray. as she’s gotten older, she has had a variety of companions-- some were romantic partners, several one-night-stands, and two attempted friends-with-benefits arrangements.

» opinion on sex: maggie isn’t ashamed to say that she enjoys sex and the freeing feeling that comes with it.

» opinion on relationships: although she likes the idea of a relationship, maggie’s fear of not being in control makes it difficult to maintain one. before the snap, she had only been in one long-term relationship which she abruptly ended after the death of her parents. she found that it was easier to try and turn off her feelings than to deal with them as everything in her life changed. since graduating with her second degree, maggie has been trying to open herself back up to dating and the possibility of a relationship.

» turn ons: the feeling of someone brushing her hair off of her face, being praised, bravery, kindness, interlacing fingers when holding hands, a genuine smile, sincerity, strong hands, bright eyes, taller men, a strong jawline, delicate kisses that gradually deepen into something more, kisses down the neck, deep conversations and debates, cologne that isn’t overpowering

» turn offs: sleazy behavior, apathy towards important issues, party-scene demeanor, bragging, lying, being late, ill-fitting clothes, lacking ambition or drive for moving forward

» past relationships: ; nicholas gray ( first love / ben barnes )

» current relationship: ; n/a

» future relationship: ; steve rogers ( tbd / chris evans ) ; bucky barnes ( tbd / sebastian stan )

– FRIENDSHIP –

» big group of friends or several close friends: maggie would rather have a smaller quantity of people in her life with better quality relationships than to have a large group of friends that she feels as though she doesn’t know.

» best friend: maggie was a relatively lonely child; she spent a lot of her time reading and imagining her life in other worlds. she had some friends but none that ever ventured further than the occasional hangout. when she was a freshman in highschool, she sat next to poppy stewart on their first day of orientation and the two have been inseparable ever since.

» ever lied to a friend: she’s told white lies when necessary but she’s never lied about something earth-shattering.

» the most horrible thing they did to a friend: when maggie broke up with nicholas, she left him a letter on his pillow before she left his apartment one morning. she avoided his calls afterwards and didn’t speak to him for several weeks until he came to her apartment to try and work things out. later in her life, maggie felt extremely guilty that she wasn’t able to confide in poppy about steve’s plan until after he had already left.

» list of friends - ; poppy stewart ( best friend / annie murphy / @petalsofpoppys ) ; pepper potts ( boss, friend / gwenyth paltrow ) ; tony stark ( boss, family friend / robert downey jr ) ; natasha romanoff ( co-worker, close friend / scarlett johansson ) ; steve rogers ( co-worker, friend, boyfriend / chris evans ) ; bucky barnes ( friend, lover, boyfriend / sebastian stan ) ; sam wilson ( friend / anthony mackie ) ; wanda maximoff ( future friend / elizabeth olsen ) ; monica rambeau ( future friend / teyonah parris )

– MORALITY –

» ever been drunk: the first time that maggie got drunk was her senior year of high school; she was at a house party with poppy and she since vowed to never touch any drink with ‘punch’ in the name, ever again.

» lied to a significant other: following the death of her parents, maggie never disclosed her tumultuous emotions to nicholas and so he was blindsided when she left him on one random morning. with an apologetic note of a goodbye, maggie made sure no trace was left behind when she slipped from the apartment in to the warm summer breeze.

» cheated on significant other: maggie would never cheat on a partner. she would rather end things than break someone’s trust in her.

» gotten into a fight: she’s never gotten in to a physical altercation but following her move in to the avenger’s compound, natasha and steve helped to train her tactically. after she moved back to the city, bucky takes up the position of being her trainer.

» deepest regret: not telling her parents how much she looked up to both of them before they died.

» religion: maggie was not raised to be religious. her parents always emphasized the importance of trying to be morally good whenever you could. she identifies as an atheist.

– MISCELLANEOUS –

» playlist: https://rb.gy/kxqfbu

» instagram:

» gifboard:

» character inspiration: leia organa (star wars trilogy), alex parrish (quantico), emma swan (once upon a time), amy pond (doctor who), buffy summers (buffy the vampire slayer), emily prentiss (criminal minds), lily evans (harry potter)

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

To Catch a Selkie

What a fool, he was.

He liked to think himself smart, he liked to think himself clever, but he was anything but, currently.

Curiosity had always been his downfall, his failing, his one deadly fault. He would pursue answers to the ends of the earth, fascinated by a world that wasn’t his, that he had been warned time and time again was dangerous, but he hadn’t listened, had he?

And now, well, now his life may as well be over.

It was already fading, the memories of the sea, of ocean water, of slipping between the waves smoothly and sleekly, his pod around him. The pups playing, splashing, sidling up to the dolphins, the braver ones to the whales.

He had thought himself brave, once. But now he knew better. Reckless, that’s what he was, stupidly reckless.

He was cold. Cold was an unusual feeling for him. He’d never known real cold before. His coat always kept him warm.

But his coat was gone, now. Stolen. Just like every story he’d ever been told by his kin, every folktale warning of humans and their greed, he had succumbed to his own hubris.

He wouldn’t leave this beach. This was as close to home as he could get, just far enough away that the water wouldn’t touch him, the spray couldn’t reach him.

It was agony. It was torture. Watching the tide roll in, the gentle lapping of the waves, the spray of the salt, the clouded, windy sky, stretching out across that blue oasis.

He shivered, arms tightening around his middle, curling against himself, salty tears spilling down his face.

It hurt, stars above, it hurt. He could feel them calling to him, begging him to come home, to answer their calls, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t if he wasn’t touching the sea, and he could never touch the sea again.

“Hey! Are you ok? What are you doing out here?” He looked up at the worried voice, meeting green eyes and black hair, with white streaked bangs.

“What do you want?” His voice was flat, empty, exhausted. The stranger furrowed his brow, confused.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re barely wearing any clothes, sitting on the beach when a thunderstorm is rolling in, in the middle of autumn. Do you have a death wish, or something?”

“maybe. I haven’t quite decided yet, if it is better to die now or slowly waste away pining for the sea. Or perhaps my owner,” he spat the word, bitter on his tongue, “will find me and the last of my memories will fade until I have nothing left but an empty, yearning, desperate desire for something I can no longer name.” The stranger stared at him for a long moment, taking him in.

He was wearing ragged shorts, no shirt or shoes or anything else. His hair was smooth and silky, despite his constant exposure to salt water. His face was sharp and angular, what he supposed humans considered breathtakingly handsome, with his large, dark brown eyes and perfectly tanned skin. He supposed that’s what had got him into this mess in the first place.

He doubled over, clutching his head as a resounding, echoing cry keened through his mind, and he shot to his feet, barely restraining himself from rushing into the water, eyes wide and breaths heaving.

“no. No! I’m here! I’m right here, I’m not lost! PLEASE!” He screamed at the waves, knowing they couldn’t hear him, knowing they wouldn’t hear him, ever again.

Leaving him. They were leaving him. They were giving him up, they were migrating to new waters, they were marking him as lost, and the worst part was, as much as he hated it, as much as it tore him to pieces, they were right.

It was only logical. He had come ashore and not come back within 24 hours. It was too dangerous for anyone else to come ashore and search, not when they didn’t know what had happened, not when he might have been discovered, not when there could be others waiting.

Selkie coats sold for quite a fortune, after all.

So did the selkies they were attatched to.

He let out a harsh sob, would have collapsed to the ground if the stranger hadn’t caught him, lowered him gently to the sand.

He was doomed. His connection to the sea would grow weaker, his connection to his coat stronger, until he was forced, compelled, to go to it, to go to his master, to obey his orders.

And everyone knew what happened to selkies whose coats were stolen. Everyone knew what humans wanted with the alluring, beautiful, mysterioius sea folk.

Yet another loss, to shatter him, break him, soon his body, and worse, his mind, would no longer be his own. He was owned. Like a thing, like a toy, like a doll. Just the thought made him ill, truly, throwing himself into the sea and dissolving into the foam was the best possible option.

He was freezing. Or he thought he was. He was so cold he didn’t even feel cold anymore, a pleasant, fuzzy warmth filling him, as cold droplets began to fall from the sky. Each one left him feeling slick and slimy, like swimming through oil. It left him feeling dirtier than before, and he shuddered at the feel of it, bile rising in his throat.

The stranger was saying something, he thought. He couldn’t hear him over the buzzing in his ears, the cotton filling his head with fear/panic/pain/despair/longing. It was too much, it was too cold, it was too futile, and his brain shut down before he could drive himself further to madness.

…

Swimming. The water parts around him, as he swims. There’s a voice, calling him onwards, pulling him towards it. It sings with power, it glows with warmth, with the promise of all the answers he’s ever searched for, all the knowledge he could ever wish for, and he drives his tail faster through the water, towards the light.

Then it turns cold. Ice wraps around him, the water freezing, he can’t reach the surface, he can’t breathe, he’s running out of air. He thrashes, trying to escape the chains he can feel, dragging him down, words echoing through the water.

“Come to me.” Burns, it burns, he won’t, he can’t, he-

His eyes flew open and he let out a strangled cry of pain, squeezing his eyes closed and counting his breathes, shoving and fighting that voice until it abated, faded away into nothing, and he pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them tight, still shaking from the call.

It was so strong, already. So hard to resist, though he had been asleep, which made it more difficult to fight, but still. How long until it was completely enthralling? How long until he lost himself forever?

With another jolt of panic, he realized he wasn’t on the beach anymore. There had been a blanket draped around him, he was on a couch, in a house, and he felt his pulse speed. Had he already been caught? Were they just keeping him captive until his owner arrived? He had to fight, he had to think, he had to do something!

He looked around the room, a coffee table sat in front of him, a bookshelf against the wall, photos sitting on a shelf, an entertainment set with a television, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing he could use.

He froze as he heard footsteps, eyes dilating, and he bared his slightly too sharp teeth, hissing a warning as the human came into view. His hands were held in the air, and he took a step back, eyes lowered to the ground. Everything about his body language screamed I am not a threat, I don’t want to hurt you, and despite himself, he let his guard down. It was the stranger from the beach.

“You stopped hissing. Does that mean you’re not gonna bite me?” That got a small laugh out of him, the innocence and pure curiosity in the human’s tone.

“I am not. Why am I here?” He asked, uneasiness churning in his gut.

“Well, you passed out on the beach, and it looked like you had hypothermia, your lips were turning blue, seriously freaked me out, so I had to get you indoors and warmed up. We’re at my apartment, right now. My friend is also here, but, um, we decided it was best I come talk to you, since you already kinda knew me.” Well meaning, then. “I would have called someone, for you, but you didn’t have an id or anything, so, we were just waiting for you to wake up.” And considerate. Not intent on keeping him hostage then, that was a relief. Not that it mattered much.

“So… you’re a selkie, yeah?” He shot to his feet at that question, teeth bared again, fists clenched, eyes flashing as he backed up against the wall, so no one could get the drop on him. How did he know that? Had he gotten him wrong? Was he just holding him here until his owner arrived? How else would he know?

“Remus! What did you do?!” He whipped his head as a new person appeared in the doorway, growl dying on his throat as he saw the new stranger. Dark violet eyes, pitch black hair, dark shadows around his eyes, pale and lanky.

A Night Sylph. A spirit of air, tied to darkness, helping to bring the night and protecting the creatures of it. He himself may not be a creature of air, but a Sylph wouldn’t allow anything to harm a mythical, not if they hadn’t acted against his creatures first.

“I apologize. I did not realize your friend was a Sylph. Not many humans could identify a Selkie, much less one without their coat. I was afraid…” He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say the words aloud, his shoulders slumping and hands relaxing, as he felt the Sylph’s concerned eyes on him, gaze softening.

“it was stolen.” The sylph said softly, not a question, but he nodded anyways, unable to speak past the lump in his throat, eyes watering again. “how long?” He took a shaking breath.

“36 hours and counting. My pod is already moving on. I give myself another 12 to 18 hours, before I have no choice but to go to Him.” He whispered, the sorrow washing through him nearly drowning him.

“That is not going to happen. We are not going to let that happen.” His eyes shot up, the Sylph’s voice fiery, his eyes glowing with his determination and fierceness. The human nodded, hand slipping into the Sylph’s, eyes just as hard and cold.

“We’re gonna find that coat. We’re gonna find that little bitch, and I’m gonna beat the shit out of him, for even daring to lay a hand on it.” His mouth was agape, looking between the two, confused, but feeling a small bubble of hope start to build in his chest.

“why?” his voice is so small, but he doesn’t have it in him to be any louder.

“Because it’s wrong! It’s slavery, and it’s hurting you, and it’s cruel.” The human replies, and the Sylph smiled at him softly.

“I’m Virgil. This idiot is Remus.” Virgil said, bumping Remus’s shoulder lightly, Remus rolling his eyes.

“Logan. You can call me Logan.” Virgil nodded, carefully coming just a bit closer as he looked over Logan.

“Why don’t we sit down, and you can tell us what you remember. That’ll give us somewhere to start.” He nodded, sinking into an armchair, knees once again pulled to his chest.

“Do you want anything to drink? Or eat?” Remus asked. He shook his head, and Remus sat on the edge of the couch, Virgil perching on the arm of it. Eating anything now would just make him sick, his stomach was so tied in knots he could barely breathe properly.

“I… it’s blurry. I was in town. I was in… in a park. I like to look at the plants, at the trees. I had my coat with me, obviously, I can’t go anywhere without it. It was wrapped around my shoulders, like a shawl. Then… then suddenly it wasn’t. Someone grabbed it, from behind me. I was stunned, I tried to chase, I only got a look from behind. Light hair… tall, I… he looked at me. Eyes, mismatched eyes. He didn’t try and take me, he knew he didn’t need to. Knew I would be forced to come to him, now that I’m stuck on land.” He shivered, remembering the glint in the man’s eyes, the smug smile on his face.

“What happens? If you go back to the water without your coat?”

“Remus!” Virgil hissed, but a wry smile crossed his face.

“I… die. I dissolve, into the ocean, into the waves, into nothing. As if I never existed. Not… not the worst option, truly. At least then I’d be home.”

“no. Logan, that is not going to happen. You won’t have to make that decision.” He flinched at the hand on his shoulder, looking up at Remus’s soft, kind eyes.

“We’re gonna find him, Lo. I promise.” He simply nodded. He knew the probability of them retrieving his coat in time was low, but he was willing to let them try. He didn’t have any other choice.

“I can tell it hasn’t left town. That’s all I know.” Virgil hummed in thought.

“Well, you got a fair description of him, not that many people have heterochromia. And we know he knew what you were, so it’s someone with knowledge of mythicals. Probably a collector, or someone who works for them. That narrows it down quite a bit. I’ll go scope things out, find a likely area. You’ll be able to feel it, if it’s close, yeah?” Virgil asked, and he nodded once more. “cool. Remus, stay with him. I’ll be back soon.”

“What should I do?” Logan asked, and Virgil softened further.

“Try and get some more rest. You’re still exhausted, and it’s only going to get worse the longer you’re away from the water. Build up strength now, while you can.” He didn’t think he’d be getting much rest, not with the fear and anxiety filling his every pore, but he acquiesced anyway.

“Are you cold?” Remus murmured, feeling his forehead. He let out a harsh laugh.

“I’m always cold, without my coat. Nothing else feels… right, or warm, everything else itches or scratches or…” He trailed off in frustration, raking his hand through his hair, surprised as Remus slid into the chair next to him, before pulling him onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him.

He was warm, stars above, Remus was warm, and he couldn’t help himself, as he melted into the touch, warmth surrounding him for the first time in what seemed like forever.

He didn’t understand, why it was so easy to surrender himself to this human, didn’t know why he felt safe, why it warmed him so deeply from the inside out, when so recently he had been irrevocably wounded by a human. He didn’t have the energy to care, though an answer niggled in the back of his brain.

Something about Remus being so passionate, barely knowing him, yet reading him as easily as a favorite book, the way he was so willing to fight for him, the way he didn’t for a moment seem to hesitate, in anything that he did.

He didn’t know him. Barely knew him for more than five minutes. But he’d somehow never felt more right.

“This better?” Remus whispered in his ear, and he let out a small hum of agreement, eyes fluttering shut as the warmth brought out the overwhelming ache for sleep in his bones.

Remus looked up in time to catch the small smile on Virgil’s face. Virgil saw him looking and shot him a thumbs up, before quietly vanishing out the door, a wisp of soft fog against the air as he shifted into his ethereal form.

…

The beach. Water lapping on the shore, sun shining warm and bright. He can hear his pod, off in the distance, can see the pups’ heads popping up through the water, splashing and playing. He calls out to them, wading into the water.

He swims towards them, but the faster and harder he swims, the thicker the water seems to get, the darker the sea becomes around him, his family vanishing into the distance. He tries to call out, but his voice is locked in his throat.

He can’t breathe. He is choking on the water, it is filling his lungs, it is dragging him down, blackness surrounding him as he sinks into the depths. He claws at the water around him, he screams, bubbles leaking from his mouth as his mind goes fuzzy.

“Come now, little pup. Stop resisting. You’ll feel so much better, once you just give in.” The voice is smooth and silky, sweet and warm as honey. He shouldn’t listen, he knows he shouldn’t listen, but he can’t quite remember why.

“That’s right, lovely. Come home-“

“Logan!”

He jolted awake, heart racing, unsure where he was, what was happening. He was pinned to the floor, wrists held down, and for a moment he thrashed, panic blinding him, before the soft tone cut through his haze, and he relaxed, head thumping back against the floor, tears forming in his eyes.

“Logan?” Virgil, from the doorway, he heard the door close. He must’ve just gotten back. Remus’s face came into view above him.

“You back with us?” He nodded, and Remus carefully released his hold on his wrists, supporting him as he helped him sit up. Instantly, Logan took stock of the scratches on Remus’s arms, the four bleeding cuts across his cheek, and he buried his head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t…” He broke off, sighing raggedly.

“He was calling you. You couldn’t help it, Lo.” Virgil said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, feeling Remus wrap his arms around him.

“It’s not your fault. You scared me, more than anything. I could tell you weren’t… you. You were trying to leave, I had to grab you, and you just started clawing at me. Caught me off guard, but I’ve had worse than this, trust me.” He half laughed at that, the panic starting to settle into something a bit more tolerable.

“Did you find anything?” He asked, wiping at his eyes, looking up at Virgil, who pursed his lips.

“I think so. Rumors, an old warehouse, downtown. Strange noises, strange lights, nothing confirmed, but I did a quick flyby, I didn’t go close, Remus,” Virgil commented at Remus’s stern glance, “Just enough to get a sense, and there was a faint spell around it, to divert attention. Just enough to make it uninteresting to any humans, who don’t already know what to look for, anyway.” Logan got to his feet, a bit wobbly. The overwhelming need for the ocean was pounding in his pulse, pain in his chest, and it took a moment to steady himself against it.

“Let’s go, then. What are we waiting for?” He asked.

“Logan, pal, you’re in no shape for a raid.” He shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Any longer and I will not be able to resist the next call. That one was so strong, I have a few hours, at most, before I will be completely incapacitated. And you can bet you won’t be able to find it without me, he will have hidden it, somewhere, hidden it well, if he’s smart. It is now or never, as I believe your saying goes.” He sounded more sure than he felt. A slight ache was pounding at his head, and he felt slightly dizzy, a bit off kilter, but he couldn’t let that stop him. This was their best chance, their only chance.

Virgil and Remus exchanged a glance, a silent conversation held in their eyes, but after a few moments, Remus nodded and Virgil sighed. Logan was right, and they both knew it.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

…

His pulse raced as he stared at the unassuming building. He could feel it, feel it, feel it. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted, eyes trained on the doors.

“Here?” Virgil asked lowly. He nodded, hands shaking with anticipation. It was close, it was so, so close.

Carefully, they snuck around the side of the building, managing to find an unlocked window. It was a tight fit for Remus, but Logan was slender enough he slid through easily, and Virgil simply flowed inside in his noncorporeal form.

They landed with soft thumps inside the darkened warehouse, and instantly, they froze at a soft, bell like sound.

“Kiddos, what are you doing here? Run!” A small, musical voice hissed at them. They turned their heads, surprised to see a small birdcage sitting by the window, a tiny, winged figure clutching at the bars, giving off a soft blue glow. Virgil’s eyes widened, and he was instantly examining the cage, biting his lip as he assessed the lock.

“Don’t worry, Spriggan. I’ll have you out in a jiffy.” Virgil murmured, eyes deepening in their violet glow, as air swirled around the lock. His gaze intensified, the air around him almost buzzing. Then the lock popped open.

The sprite gasped softly as Virgil opened the cage door, fluttering to the edge, almost hesitant to step outside.

“It’s ok. I promise.” Virgil whispered, and the sprite fluttered out, a quiet, disbelieving laugh ringing out as he flew a few laps around Virgil’s head, before settling on his nose and hugging his forehead as far as his tiny arms could reach.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Sylva. But you have to go! You have to leave, now, before he-“

“Finds you? Please, Patton, I knew they were here from the moment they stepped inside.” Instantly, the sprite was gone, buzzing out the window as fast as his wings would carry him, leaving the three to spin around and face the darkness alone.

Logan gasped, icy fear plunging into his heart as he met those gold and brown eyes, that arrogant smirk.

“Give it back. Now.” Virgil growled, and the figure laughed, a dangerously soft sound.

“As if you are in any position to bargain. You did just cost me my Sprite. Though I suppose a Sylph is a fair trade, an upgrade, even.” He mused. Virgil hissed, eyes flashing as he shifted incorporeal, a dark splash of smoke as he swirled up and away.

“As if you could catch me.” The stranger’s smile widened.

“Oh, you do amuse me. I think you will be a new favorite of mine. I will enjoy watching you struggle.” He snapped, and golden light flared to life around him, golden strings unspooling from his fingers, twisting and turning through the air. Virgil dodged and weaved, avoiding the threads that were spiderwebbing through the rafters, slowly closing in on him.

Remus growled, and charged at the man, who lithely stepped out of the way, as he stumbled past him. He felt something coil around him, sending him falling, and he looked up to see a huge, hissing golden serpent wrapping tight around his body. He jolted as Virgil cried out, and he saw him falling through air, landing hard on his back on the ground, gold thread squeezing around him. Then the snake bit into his neck, and the world blurred.

“Remus!” Logan lunged towards him, halting mid step at the soft glimmer he caught in the corner of his eye, slowly turning to face the sorcerer, eyes locked on the soft fur coat held in his hands.

It shimmered, gray and black, smooth and silky, and for a moment, Logan could feel the ocean around him, could see the endless waves, could taste the salt, could feel the cool relief of water.

“There now, little pup. Isn’t that better?” He purred. Logan couldn’t breathe. His heart was frozen in his chest, he couldn’t even bring himself to blink, the want, the overwhelming need filling his soul, his very being. Slowly, despite himself, he nodded.

“Logan… no…” a voice begged weakly. Distantly, he thought he knew that voice, but his coat was all he could see, the gold and brown imprinting into his soul, and his whole being relaxed, putty in his veins.

“Now, lovely, why don’t you come with me?” Emptily, he nodded, following the sorcerer’s directions, his hand on the small of his back guiding him into a small, dark, room, and he passively sat. His mind was fuzzy, soft, barely aware. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, but the feeling flowed over his head, lost in the heady buzz filling his chest.

Dimly, he felt something cold clamping around his ankles, felt something hard clamp around his wrists. He whimpered, trying to move, but a voice shushed him.

“None of that, now, darling.” A hand caressed his cheek, tilting his chin up to meet gold and brown. They stopped his breath, they sucked him in, and he was drowning in those hypnotizing pools, slumping weakly back against the wall. “Wonderful. Oh, you are a pretty one, aren’t you?” He felt those hands turning his chin, examining him, before stepping away with a dark chuckle. Logan’s head fell back against the wall, eyes blurred and unseeing, mind empty and buzzing with soft, hazy warmth. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing, lovely. Jussst sssleeep.” His eyes fluttered shut, the man's voice echoing softly through his mind, recognizing dimly the feel of a spell weaving into him, taking him into a dark, empty oblivion. He didn’t hear the door shut, the lock turn, didn’t notice the pure black darkness of the room. He didn’t notice or feel or think anything. Not anymore.

…

Virgil was dying. Or he thought he was. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t… there wasn’t any air, he couldn’t live without air, he was air, it was his being, he needed it. He gasped in a choking breath, managing to raise his head just enough to see. He was in a large, glass cylinder. He could see a grate at the top, could feel it, it was a vacuum, he was trapped in a vacuum, he was helpless, he was defenseless, he was trapped.

Roman. He could see Roman, through the glass. He was tied to a chair, he could see the sorcerer circling him, taunting him, if he had to guess, and he tried to do anything, tried to get to his feet, but he only succeeded in falling to his hands and knees, dizzy and gasping and consciousness fading, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t leave Remus to this mess all on his own.

But it felt like a thousand pounds of rocks sitting on his chest, it felt like the weight of a mountain pressing down on him, and he weakly clawed at his throat, desperate for air, any air, as his vision flickered, dimming.

Then, suddenly, shattering glass. He wheezed in a desperate breath, kneeling on broken glass, barely getting his bearings as another lungful of air filled him with power.

He didn’t have time to wait. He shot to his feet, eyes flashing electric violet, form dissolving and coalescing into a menacing, flashing cloud of angry black, shadows growing throughout the room, darkening everything. A low growl rumbled, like thunder, and then the room was filled with crackling, sizzling lightning.

…

Roman woke tied to a chair. He groaned, a bit surprised to be waking at all. He had thought for sure that snake was going to kill him.

“Hello there, dearie. Pleasure to meet you properly.” He hissed, struggling against the rope, glaring as those eyes came into view, the man leaning casually on the arms of the chair, too close in his space.

“What do you want?” He spat, not ceasing his struggle, even as the stranger tutted, tilting the chair back on its back legs as he circled it.

“You see, I was going to kill you. Just a human, just in my way, too much care and desperation to stop chasing me, not when I have your little pets.”

“They aren’t my pets. They’re my friends.” The man just chuckled, slamming the chair back down on all four legs, causing him to bite his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

“But then I realized something. You are not the simple human you appear to be, are you?” He froze, breathe catching, before his defiant mask slid back into place.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man tutted again, grabbing his chin and forcing himself to stare into those eyes.

“Liar, liar, little changeling. Why didn’t they want you, I wonder? Stunted growth? Crippled limb? Ah,” He snapped, “Crippled magic.” Remus winced, jerking his chin out of his hold, glaring at the ground. “Bit touchy, are we?”

“Fuck off.” He looked up, and spat directly into that smug face, enjoying immensely the expression of pure shock and outrage that twisted his lips as he wiped away the bloody spit.

“Oh, you will pay for that.” Then the room exploded in lightning.

“-us! Remus!” He groaned, slowly blinking his eyes open, blinking again as a soft glow of blue buzzed across his vision.

“Virg? What… what happened?” Virgil rubbed the back of his head, shooting him a sheepish grin as he helped him sit up.

“Got a little heated. Lightning went a bit haywire. Gave you a good shock, on accident.”

“How did you get out? And I thought you left us!” Remus accused, getting dizzy as he tried to track the sprite’s nervous fluttering.

“He left to go get help. Something you should have done before charging into a trap!” Remus groaned, looking up as someone reached out their hand, helping pull him to his feet.

“Really, Patton? You had to go get him?”

“You’re lucky he did! What were you thinking, Ree?” He shrugged, meeting the identical face of Roman, his changeling counterpart, the human that had been taken in his place and grown up with everything he should have had, should have been. Which, turns out, wasn’t actually all that great, so he supposed he actually kinda owed Roman.

Still, by the time they’d met, they’d both spent more time in each other’s realms than their own. Roman was more fae than human, and Remus was more human than fae, so they decided to keep their roles, their homes they’d made for themselves. They hadn’t even known what they were, until their early teens.

“we couldn’t wait for you. He’s a Selkie, Ro, we didn’t have time.” Roman softened a bit at the distress of Remus, sighing.

“you panicked. I get that, Remus, I do. It just… scared me. Seeing Virgil like that, seeing you…” Roman trailed off, shaking his head, wry smile on his lips. Remus’s eyes widened, gaze flying through the room, skating over the sorcerer, who was now bound to an upright support beam with shimmering, nearly invisible thread. Faery thread. There were very few things that could break it, certainly nothing the sorcerer had on hand. He didn’t care.

“Logan. Where…” His eyes locked on a door, and he sprinted over to it, growling as he tried the handle, finding it locked. He didn’t wait for Virgil to pop it, instead he kicked it with all his might, sending the door slamming open.

“Remus!” Virgil hissed, appearing at his side, but he barely noticed, instead falling to his knees, Logan filling his entire vision, fury clouding his mind at the chains shackling his wrists and ankles to the floor.

“Get them off.” He hissed, unsure who he was even talking to.

“Virgil, you’ll have to do it. They’re enchanted against magical meddling.” It took Virgil longer than normal to pop the locks, the enchantment making them a bit trickier to handle, but finally, they were all removed, and Remus carefully pulled Logan onto his lap.

“Logan… wake up, please.” He gently shook Logan’s shoulder, but the Selkie remained limp and still as a corpse. His face was too pale, his breathing deep and slow. He brushed back Logan’s hair, frowning at the warmth of his forehead, realizing too his skin was dry, flaking.

“he won’t wake up. He’s sick.” He looked helplessly up at Roman and Patton, who was sitting on Roman’s shoulder, wings fluttering nervously.

“We need to find his coat. Now.” Virgil muttered. Remus stood, still cradling Logan, snarling as he entered the main room, eyes aflame as he glared at the sorcerer, who was now awake, eyes glinting with almost amusement.

“What did you do to him?” He snarled, spitting, mere inches away. The sorcerer simply smirked.

“Whatever do you mean, little changeling?” Remus growled, would have punched him, if he wasn’t holding Logan in his arms, then Virgil was at his side, carefully moving him back, getting in his line of sight.

“Logan-“ Virgil shook his head.

“I know. But we will handle it. You and Patton go take care of him.” Remus hesitated, but his shoulders slumped and he nodded.

“alright. Just kill him for me, won’t you?” a ghost of a smile flitted across Virgil’s face.

“Oh, we’ll do one better. We’ll make him wish he were dead.”

…

Roman turned to face the sorcerer, hands clasped behind him, Virgil leaning against the wall in the shadows, still shaky.

“I believe I’ve heard of you. You’re a freelancer for ‘collectors’.” He spat the word, ash in his mouth. “Deceit, I believe you go by.” The sorcerer’s smirk didn’t drop, but something wary shifted in his eyes. “Usually you’re more careful than this, to my knowledge you’ve never been caught in the act, before tonight.” That seemed to hit a nerve, Deceit’s eyes narrowed.

“How many creatures have you ‘caught’? Torn away from their homes and condemned to torture and captivity and slavery? They have homes, they have families, they’re people!” Virgil spoke up, eyes electric, each word crackling.

“It you protected them better I wouldn’t be able to catch them.” Virgil recoiled, then surged forwards, flying around Deceit’s head so fast all the oxygen was sucked out of the air.

He finally pulled back, coalescing next to Roman, satisfaction rushing through him as the sorcerer coughed, wheezing in breaths.

“Where is his coat?” Virgil demanded, meeting Deceit’s glare with his own.

“Why don’t you ask your little selkie, hmm? Poor thing can’t find it? Oh, that’s right,” he snapped, “you can’t. And nothing you do will change that.” Roman’s eyes flashed, and the string tightened, causing Deceit to hiss in pain as the sharp strands cut through his skin. “You don’t even know what you have, do you? For all your self importance, you really are an idiot. Nothing in the world will make me give up that coat.” The strings dug in deeper, beads of red leaking through the torn fabric of his clothes, slicing through flesh like butter.

“Explain.” Virgil hissed. Deceit rolled his eyes, not saying a word.

“Fine. Hard way then. Virgil, tear this place apart. I’ll tear his mind apart. If there’s one good thing about being raised by seers, it’s this.” Before Deceit could move, Roman had pressed his hands to each of Deceit’s temples, mind foccused on one thought only. “See.”

…

“Well?” Remus asked, looking down at Patton, who was kneeling on Logan’s forehead, hands glowing softly. The sprite slumped back on his knees, exhausted.

“I can tell it’s a spell, some kind of sleep spell. It’s strong, too, nothing I can crack, but nothing that explains why he’s sick like this. Selkies don’t get sick like this, no matter how far from the water they are. I don’t know, I’m sorry.” Carefully, he scooped Patton up in his hand, setting him down on his shoulder.

They were sitting in the back of the van, Logan laid out across the backseat, his head resting in Remus’s lap as he nervously ran his hands through Logan’s hair. He didn’t understand, Logan had been relatively fine just a few hours ago, now he was burning up under his hands.

His eyes shot up at the sound of the door opening, gaze flickering between Roman’s sympathetic brown eyes and Virgil’s thin lipped stare.

“did you get it? Please, please, tell me you got it.” Roman wordlessly handed him a soft, silky seal pelt. Remus nearly sobbed in relief, wrapping it around Logan like a blanket, stroking his cheek.

“wake up, wake up, wake up.” He whispered, almost a prayer, searching Logan’s face for any sign of movement.

“remus. He’s a direct descendant of Sedna. That’s why he’s ill. He literally cannot survive on land. He’s… he’s dying.”

“Then let’s go! What are we waiting for?” He demanded. Roman and Virgil exchanged a look, one that he didn’t miss, sadness and something soft in their eyes.

“We’re too far from the ocean. We won’t get there in time.” A sob clawed its way out of Remus’s throat, and he shook his head.

“NO! No, we promised him we’d get him home, we promised him! So get in the car and FUCKING DRIVE!” He screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Remus-“

“Just do it. Please. We still have a chance, there’s still a chance.” He pleaded.

“Even if we get him back, we have no way to break the spell. He won’t survive.” Remus glared up at Virgil through watery eyes.

“We’re not going to just do nothing! Now get in and drive or I’ll do it myself.” Remus hissed. Virgil and Roman exchanged another glance, and Patton patted his neck in sympathy, but they complied without another word.

…

Logan was shaking. Chills wracked his body, and he was heaving in raspy, unsteady breaths. Sweat covered his hair, sticking to his forehead, and his face was paling even further, as the life drained out of him one breath at a time.

“Come on, Lo. Just hold on, just hold on for me.” He murmured, trying to keep his own voice steady and reassuring, trying to keep his own panic from swallowing him whole.

“We’re here.” Virgil breathed out, the car jolting to a stop, Roman not having bothered with the parking lot, pulling directly onto the sand, as far as he could. Instantly, Remus bolted to his feet, oh so gently lifting Logan into his arms, bolting for the water, tucking his coat tightly around him.

His shaking had stopped. As Remus ran, he realized Logan’s shaking had stopped, he couldn’t feel him breathing anymore, he couldn’t feel his heartbeat. They were nearly there, nearly to the water, he couldn’t die now, they were so close, surely he was still holding on.

He gasped at the shock of cold water, not stopping until he was up to his knees, Logan floating in the water before him, his arms holding him so his head was above the surface.

“Logan… come on, please, Logan, please, wake up, wake up, you stupid seal!” He shouted, tears streaming down his face at Logan’s lifeless form, limp and still, head lolling with the waves.

“Remus… he’s gone…” Patton, he had darted out to Remus had settled on his shoulder once more, looking back to Virgil and Roman, who were waiting on the shore. Another sob tore from his throat, and he shook his head, pulling Logan close, burying his face in the selkie’s soft hair.

“no. nononono we got him home! He can’t… he can’t… he can’t just steal my heart and then die before I can tell him, he can’t just leave, he can’t!” Remus sobbed, shoulders shaking, wishing for all the world Logan would open his eyes. He would give anything, for Logan to open his eyes.

“would you, child of fae, human in nature? Your kind are cruel, cold. What would you truly give, to bring him back?” He didn’t look up at the softly accented woman’s voice. He knew, some part of him knew.

Sedna. Goddess of the sea, mother of all of its creatures, guardian and vengeful spirit of the ocean and all of its depths. Logan’s biological mother.

“anything. I would give anything.” He whispered, meeting her deep, infinite dark eyes, that sparkled with all the mystery of the darkest deepest depths. He saw his own sorrow reflected ten fold there, though her gaze hardened as he met her unfathamoble eyes.

“Choose your words carefully, mortal fae.” His breath caught. He’d spent enough time around Roman, around other mythicals, to know that tone, that careful wording.

“What do I have to do? What do you need from me?” He asked, and the goddess actually hesitated, almost taken aback by his intensity. She held out her arms, and relunctantly, he let her take him.

“oh, my heart, my soul, my babe. What have they done to you?” She murmured softly, kissing Logan’s forehead. “but even still…” she gathered herself, looking up at Remus, something softer in her eyes now, a desperate sort of hope. “A life. Willingly given, willingly gifted. Only then can you hope to find him.” Remus let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any mirth.

“You had me worried there. For a second I thought it might be hard.” He met her eyes, once more, drowning in them, a soft smile tinging his lips. “My life, huh? It’s not much of one, I’m afraid, but you can have it. Willingly and no regrets. Not… not if it gives us a chance.” Sedna nodded once. He didn’t have time to even hold his breath, before he was pulled beneath the waves.

“NO!” Virgil screamed, as Remus was pulled under, in an instant swirling out to Sedna, his form blurred as he hovered above the waves.

“This is not of your business, Sylph.” She stated, not looking away from Logan, and Virgil hissed.

“Like hell, it isn’t.” She looked up at that, eyes sharp but sympathetic.

“It was his choice to make. If his love is pure, they will both come back to us. Have some faith.”

“If it isn’t two innocent lives were lost today.” He growled,

“Innocent lives are lost every second, Sylph. At least this has the chance of righting a wrong.”

…

He is sinking. He can just barely see a faint halo of light, but it is far, far, far above, and fading fast.

Where is he?

He tries to remember, tries to wrack his brain, for what this dark, endlessly sinking abyss could be, but the farther from the light, the blurrier it all gets.

There’s something important, he should be doing. Yes, there was something urgent, something he was looking for, but it is hazy now, and he doesn’t know what it is or was.

He doesn’t know who he is.

That should be worrying, but it isn’t. Not here. Here, it feels inconsequential. Everything seems small and meaningless, and he thinks he would be perfectly content to drift down and down and down in this darkness for eternity, thinking of everything and nothing, letting the darkness swallow him until what’s left of his awareness fades.

But something pulls at him. Something forces him to open his eyes, to take a deep breath, something he’s surprised to find he can do underwater. Or, he thinks he’s underwater. For the first time, he looks around.

He’s surprised to see shapes, in the darkness. Some have outlines of color, just faintly flickering, some are gray, and fade in front of his eyes, but all are drifting listlessly, down and down, and somehow he knows that the deeper they go, the more they fade, until nothing is left.

That sends a jolt of panic through him.

Logan. He has to find Logan.

He doesn’t know quite who that is, but the name lights something inside him, and though it takes all the will in his body, he forces his limbs to move. He forces himself to swim downwards, searching, searching, searching-

There! A faint flicker, a faint something, that tugs him closer. It was so dark, he could barely see where he was going, but he didn’t let up for a moment, not when his lungs began to burn, not when he felt his limbs start to go numb, not when he could see the outline of himself flickering in and out, his mind going hazy.

He pushed forwards, and suddenly he was there, grabbing onto the ethereal form of Logan, pulling him close, and without thinking, he pressed their lips together, exhaling all of his air into Logan’s lungs, breathing all of his own life into Logan, his eyes slipping closed as Logan’s dark ones flew open, his surprised gasp inhaling the last of Remus’s air, and the world blurred, his outline fading quickly to gray, and his last thought was the hope that Logan would live enough life for the both of them.

…

Remus gasped, coughing, heaving in huge breath after huge breath, vision blurred from tears, every part of him sore and aching as he choked on the air.

“Remus.” His eyes jerked up, and he met deep browns, that perfect, beautiful face, and Logan reached out, cupping his cheek, wiping away the tears slipping down his face, as he let out a small, desperately happy laugh. Then he leaned forwards, crushing their lips together, feeling Logan melt into his touch, hands tangling in his hair, and even after their lips parted, Remus didn’t let go, nuzzling against Logan’s hair, silent tears still falling.

“how… what…” he whispered, unable to form the words he was looking for. How was he alive, how was he here, how was Logan here, how had he lived, when he’d given his entire soul to breathe life back into Logan.

“You love me.” Was the somewhat awed, somewhat small answer from Logan, and he pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, a smile dancing across his lips.

“yes. I love you, Logan.” He replied, somehow melting even more at the soft, adoring gaze Logan was bestowing upon him, his lips quirked at the corners in a small smile.

“You were willing to give your life for mine. Even if you couldn’t live to live with me, even though I would gain everything and you would lose all, you would still have given it freely. That intent, was enough. It was a test, of sorts. And you passed, Remus.” Logan intertwined their fingers, and Remus couldn’t help it anymore as a desperate, relieved sob shook his frame as he fell into Logan’s arms, crying into his shoulder.

“you still have to go. You still have to leave, go back to the water. I’m still losing you.” He choked out, feeling Logan brushing his thumb over his knuckles. He heard Logan chuckle softly.

“Not quite. You still gave me part of yourself, part of your soul. And you now hold some of mine. We’re tied together now, Remus. Anywhere you step I can also. Anywhere I pass through so will you be able.”

“but… you won’t get sick? You won’t… I won’t keep you, I won’t make you stay, you don’t have to stay.” Just the thought of forcing Logan to stay made him ill.

“I know, Remus. I know you wouldn’t. I know you would never take my coat, I know you would never force me to do anything, I trust you. It won’t make me sick. We can spend time, between land and sea, there’s so much I can show you, Remus, worlds you wouldn’t even be able to imagine.”

They both looked up at the sound of hesitant footsteps. Roman was approaching, having kept his distance and given them space on the shore, where Logan had pulled Remus, just out of the surf. Virgil was still speaking to Sedna, form flickering with displeasure and anger, while she was nothing but calm and placid, the soft glow of Patton clear on his shoulder.

“Remus. If you ever do something like that again I will strangle you with my bare hands.” Roman muttered furiously, eliciting a high laugh, Remus soft as he met Roman’s eyes for a moment, understanding passing between them without a word needing to be spoken. “And Logan… take care of him. He’s a lot softer than he’d like you to believe.” Remus huffed in indignation, melting with a happy hum as Logan pressed a kiss to his cheek, causing the selkie to shake his head in amusement.

“I will. I promise.” With that Roman nodded, walking several yards down the beach before simply vanishing.

“He’s such a drama queen.” Logan chuckled.

“Nothing at all like you, I’m sure.” Remus snorted, tilting his head back, to look up at Logan, his Logan, His.

“We should get you indoors. You’re sopping wet, and it’s cold.” Remus nuzzled closer to Logan, gently butting his chin with his head.

“Good thing I’ve got you, then, keeping me warm.” And before Logan could argue, he had captured the selkie’s lips once more, lost in a different, amazingly beautiful kind of warmth.

#sanders sides #sympathetic remus #remus sanders #human remus #logan sanders #selkie logan #logan angst #remus angst #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #unsympathetic deceit #temporary character death #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #logan x remus

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benoitblanc · 4 years

Text

tagged by @castelllans (ily caroline!!!) to answer some questions!

do you prefer writing with black pen or a blue pen? black 100%

would you prefer to live in the country or in the city? city, but not in a super crowded hectic bit. like near the natural history museum in london. in one of those super expensive row houses. as you can see, i haven’t thought about this at all XD

if you could learn a new skill, what would it be? i’d love to become proficient in italian. or tap dancing

do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? i actually don’t drink coffee at all and not much tea, but on the extremely rare occasions i have english breakfast tea, i take sugar

what was your favorite book as a child? besides harry potter? my love of crime fiction started really early with the a to z mysteries by ron roy. i loved ruth rose so much

do you prefer baths or showers? showers- i never have time for a bath

if you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? a phoenix or a dragon!

paper or electronic books? absolutely paper

what are your favorite items of clothing? i have a t-shirt with the entirety of les miserables written on it in tiny text, and another with the entirety of the secret garden. i also love my stage management outfits, which are literally just whatever black clothing i can find the day of, but they always make me feel so badass

do you like your name? would you like to change it? i do, actually! my first name is extremely common and anglican but i think it fits me anyway. my middle name, what i go by on tumblr, is after fucking arwen undomiel- no, i’m not joking, i was legitimately named by my parents after arwen undomiel- so what’s not to like lol

who is a mentor to you? all the more experienced members of my production team are always so helpful and supportive and lovely. i miss them a lot

would you like to be famous? if so, what for? honestly? probably not. i’d like to be well-respected in my field but i don’t think that’s the same thing

are you a restless sleeper? yes, which sucks

do you consider yourself to be a romantic person? i’m a weird mixture of “absolute cynic” and “hopeless romantic” so... i suppose?

which element best describes you? air or fire

who do you want to be closer to? i forgot to answer this question last night- the answer here was copy-pasted from caroline with the rest of the game, sorry caroline- but there are several people i see on a semi-regular basis (during normal times) who i’m sort of friendly with but i’d love to be friends with

do you miss anyone at the moment? i miss all of my friends a ridiculous amount, but especially my idiot actors. (you all have probably heard at least one idiot actor story if you’ve been following me for any length of time.) they all mean the world to me, and i can’t wait until we’re all back in the theatre

tell us about an early childhood memory. when i was really little, like 3-5ish, i would always go to a family friend’s house while my mum worked. the family friend had three kids, one a year above me, one my age, and one two years younger. i have a handful of weirdly specific memories from their house, but my favorite is when the kid my age and i were playing on their swingset and when the mom called us in for lunch, she joked “oh, where are arwen and ben? i think they’ve swung into space! maybe to the moon!” i was maybe like four and i can still remember that she made us macaroni and cheese. it was a good day

what is the strangest thing you’ve eaten? i’m completely blanking on this one. i’ve eaten some weird shit in england but nothing too bizarre. elizabeth sponge, which is basically lavender-flavored victoria sponge, was pretty horrendous though. victoria sponge is such a perfect dessert and then you go and make it taste like perfume??? why???

do you like spicy foods? usually! as long as they aren’t too spicy

have you ever met someone famous? i went to elementary school with one of stephen king’s grandkids, aka joe hill’s son, so i’ve met joe hill. he and my dad would always talk about doctor who while they waited to pick us up. he actually wasn’t as weird as you would expect. my classmate, on the other hand, was exactly as weird as you would think a king would be

do you keep a diary or journal? i have made several attempts to do so and inevitably fail every time

do you prefer to use pen or pencil? depends on the situation

what is your star sign? pisces

do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy? in between!

what would you want your legacy to be? that i did something good for the world. i touched someone’s life in some way

do you like reading? what was the last book you read? i adore reading. i would die if i couldn’t read. i’m currently reading my dear hamilton by stephanie dray and laura kamoie, but the last book i finished was a reread of the raven king by maggie stiefvater

how do you show someone you love them? just by being a shoulder to lean or cry on more than anything. also, lots and lots of teasing in a fun, mutual, bestie banter (or straight-up flirting depending on the person) way

do you like ice in your drinks? in water or lemonade, but nothing else

what are you afraid of? wasps and gas masks and failure

what is your favorite scent? the specific mix of evergreen, cold air, woodsmoke, peppermint, stale popcorn, something baking, and snow that you only get at christmastime

do you address older people by their name or surname? depends on how well i know them

if money was not a factor, how would you live your life? in london in one of the aforementioned row houses, doing the things i love and travelling as much as i could

do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? neither. lake supremacy. (i do enjoy pools and the sea, but lakes are best)

what would you do if you found $50 on the ground? attempt to figure out who it belonged to, most likely

have you ever seen a shooting star? did you make a wish? i think i’ve seen a couple, but i don’t remember making a wish

what is one thing you would want to teach your children? the boldest thing you can do is just be kind

if you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? ...i don’t want tattoos, so nothing

what can you hear now? the hum of my air purifier

where do you feel the safest? my theatre is simultaneously where i feel the safest and where i have the most anxiety attacks. no clue why, although maybe it’s because i feel safe enough there to let myself freak out a little

what is one thing you want to overcome/conquer? i’m making it my goal this summer to overcome my phobia of thunderstorms. i’ve progressed to the point where a calm, rumbly storm actually makes me really happy now, which is great! i’d also love to just... stop having the aforementioned anxiety attacks but not sure how much i can do about that lol

if you could travel back to an era, what would it be? assuming none of the bigoted shit that was inevitably going down in literally any era is applicable, either the 1920s or 1940s

what is your most used emoji? 😂

describe yourself using one word? tenacious

what do you regret the most? i honestly don’t have many regrets, which is wonderful. the one i do have i flipflop between not giving a flying fuck about and going “oh god i really fucked up there!”, so it’s complicated XD

last film you saw? a rewatch of the avengers

last tv show you watched? technically both marvel agent(s) shows because i’m getting clips for giffing purposes- and side note the carter lighting designer owes me money at this point for making me go through this coloring bullshit over and over- but the last show i saw a full ep from was leverage

invent a word and it’s meaning. praecipience (n.)- the feeling of sickening anticipation you get right before something that you know is coming, like a cast list or an episode or opening an acceptance/rejection letter or an execution

tagging anyone who wants to do it :)

#tag game #about me

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mutantsrisingrpg · 4 years

Photo

Congratulations BECKY! You’ve been accepted as VENUS.

Becky’s back, back again. Becky’s back, tell a friend! Now that I got that out of the way, I can make this a serious acceptance note. I can honestly say there was not a moment while reading this app that I didn’t think your Hana was it. Hana is obsessed with power and the way you hit on that through her bio had me on the edge of my seat. You created this storm of a girl that I want to know more about even if I know the danger associated with her. Both of us are beyond excited to see the “human embodiment of pikachu with anger issues” on the dash!

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Becky

PRONOUNS: she / her

AGE: 24

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT ( but technically GMT +1 currently bc summer! ); online daily, particularly active atm because ya girl is working from home

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Venus / Hana Mercado

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Female; she/her

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Even in a city like Miami, Hana is hard to miss in a crowd. Bubblegum bursts, her lazy chew concealing the switchblade sharp smirk that slides across her mouth a little too late for anyone to be able to avoid the trouble that comes from it. She thinks she’s wired up wrong, like a casino gambling machine full of bullets that just keeps dishing out violence while playing its disjointed electric-warped song of congratulations, bright lights flashing wildly.

To your left, a man walking his pet leopard down the sidewalk; to the right, Hana Mercado paralysing a man with the touch of a fingertip for wolf-whistling her. She fits in well here, Florida born and raised, helping the drug lords keep their territories and the mutants keep their identities and everyone and anyone in between keep what’s left of their slowly unravelling sanity. Despite the bustling sea of tourists that ebbs and flows with the good weather, it’s easy to feel lonely. Hana isn’t great when it comes to other people. Pushing them away is a lot less difficult than making them stay.

Everything is loud. Everything is bright. The electricity is near palpable as she splashes through the remnants of a thunderstorm, rainwater spraying over fresh white sneakers. She’s quiet when the sun sets, bleeding red across the sky, the colour of the popsicles she’d eat for dinner as a kid. It’s hard to fear the consequences of her actions when she’s as close to a young god as anyone’s ever going to get. Mutants? Deities? Same difference if you know how to play to the right narrative.

Fuck you has always been easier to spit than a genuinely spoken I love you and that’s the honest-to-fuck truth.

[ + ] driven / brave / resilient / passionate [ - ] arrogant / reckless / unpredictable / childish

BIO:

Money is power. And power is power. And electricity? The sort that decorates the country like a spiderweb, an interwoven network of wires, all humming, all singing to her, the siren’s call of greatness from above ground and beneath it? Power.

Hana is a vicious formation of blood and desire, with the scent of someone burning from the inside inhaled like a nicotine hit. Interrogation comes naturally to her; smiles that should be sweet on a face like hers turn sharp and deadly. She likes to hear them beg. To watch them shake. People spill their secrets to her whether they like it or not.

It’s been that way since she was nineteen years old, static dancing between her fingertips after getting too riled up in an argument with a neighbour’s son over stealing her family’s gas cylinder. An impromptu lightning strike had left the tarmac lining the trailer park sizzling, black and sticky like summertime ( and don’t worry, the Cheeto-dust-decorated-rude-mouthed-slacker-of-a-punk-ass-brat had survived – getting hit by lightning suddenly made him interesting, too, so if anything she’d been doing him a favour ).

A freak accident, they’d called it. Another one of those unexpected Florida storms. But she knew better than that. As had her mom, smoking a fresh pack of Camel Blues from the other side of the door’s insect screen, fresh foils in her hair, acrylic nails the colour of the algae in the neglected community pool down the street. Thinking back, maybe this all stemmed from swallowing too much of that fucking nuclear-waste-looking water when she’d dared to swim there as a kid, hot and sweaty as a storm breaks on the horizon.

But the point – the point is that, to her mom, having the human embodiment of Pikachu as a daughter was as good as winning a jackpot at one of her weekly bingo sessions. She tries to sell it. Power. The ability to pluck electricity from charged particles in the air makes her daughter useful. A living battery. Studies on mutants at University of Miami dish out hefty paychecks after the right terms and conditions have been signed ( note: if you die, that’s on you, don’t try to sue us ). Hana attempts to protest but even she can’t deny that the allure of getting rich sounds like a dream come true.

So she goes to college. Not in the usual sense, sure, but she gets to live on campus ( in a secure underground testing facility beneath the BioMed building ) and hang out with others ( mostly mutants ) her age. And it’s fine for a while until simple fitness tests and blood sampling turn more extreme. Some days are hazy, pumped full of drugs and hooked up to machines that she doesn’t know the name of, let alone the purpose, beeping their own idle hospital-like symphony. Other days are dark and quiet, plunged into sensory deprivation for the sake of whatever it is the boffins in their lab coats are trying to figure out.

She’ll get rich or die trying and, ironically, neither of those things happens.

When the anti-mutant-testing protestors storm the building, they free Hana from both the confinement and the contract. The money she was supposed to get at the end of all this vanishes, along with the pleased looking humans who pat themselves on the back for doing a good deed and disappear to go and celebrate. None of them ask her if this was what she wanted. None of them stop to think that maybe liberation was never an option for her.

Her mom’s gone too. A new trailer stands where Hana’s home once had. The monthly paychecks from the university never reached her bank account, instead wired directly to Mrs Mercado. She laughs until she cries, the air crackling overhead.

After all that, turning to a life of crime is far easier than it has any right to be. Angry and alone, she fucks a guy in a gang in the back of his drop-top and makes herself useful when it comes to getting money out of those who owe it. She runs from the cops. Has a gun pressed to her temple. Watches an illegal weed farm burn at the flick of a lighter. Nothing phases her because she doesn’t let it. Rules stop meaning anything when you realise just what having powers can get you. Making a living from getting spineless people to open up their mouths and offer the gold that is information makes her feel a little less like a failure. Interrogation has a nice ring to it, after all. And once she makes a name for herself, sought after by those who know that secrets are worth a decent stack of bills – well – who is she to turn a job down?

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

YVETTE. It’s more than just the sticky sweet sugar of sisterhood. Hana would fight tooth and nail for Yvette should she say the word; would go to war for her if needed. There are very few people in the world that she cares about more than herself, but her partner ( in crime, in the sport of bringing their enemies down, in a vodka-tasting kiss that she’s managed to take a little too far ) holds the throne to Hana’s adoration. If only Yvette would take another step further into chaos and embrace becoming the seductive sort of danger that people run from.

ANDREAS. He knows how to say the right things, she’ll give him that. Hana wants what is hers. And sure, she may not know what that is exactly but the whispers of power he offers are captivating. After so long of operating alone for anyone with enough money to afford her services, the concept of joining strengths is a tricky one to navigate. She keeps him waiting, keeps him on his toes, avoiding a crystal clear answer for the sake of keeping her cards close to her chest. Better to have multiple options on the table than settling for the first one that comes along.

DEREK. Oh, the joy of knowing she’s the shiny new model; a glossy picture-perfect upgrade; a brand new battery to keep Damien and his clowns energised. The temptation of coaxing out Derek’s anger to watch him slip up and fall further from grace is all too great. She’ll press a cherry red lipstick kiss to the dark shades of the sunglasses he will no doubt need down here in paradise. Her future is bright, can he say the same about his own?

DAMIEN ft. JACKSON. He sends his loyal hound. She can only assume that Jackson is missing a collar because he doesn’t like wearing it in public; his Tiffany heart-shaped dog tag would probably get too warm glinting in the Miami sunshine. Hana knows a mob boss pet when she sees one, sniffing her out amongst the cheap cocktails and plastic palms of a Tiki Bar on Ocean Drive. Who’s a good boy? It’s appealing, the carefully constructed dream Damien offers. Almost a little too good to be true given the circumstances. She knows his gang has chased others out, a fine show of strength and organisation, but how long will it last when he doesn’t even know this city?

EXTRA:

Inspo [ x ] Pinterest board [ x ]

ANYTHING ELSE: ily both

#Accepted #accepted: venus

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weirdstuff-blog · 5 years

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Me and stephanie dancing up Christian

"ROB SIMS presents KellyMBentley.Com in 2008! "

Female 26 years old ATLANTA, Georgia United States

Last Login: 4/13/2008

I love models and everything to do with the glamour industry. I am seriously into photography. I love to dance and I am currently learning to sing. I am crazy in love with my American Pitt Bull Terrier "Layla" and I love spending time with her playing freesbee with her and my loving fiance Django. I love fast cars preferrably American Muscle. My favorite would be a Trans Am. Long live Cassondra

Music I love all types of music, but my favorite is Classic Rock including the Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, Doors, Def Lepard, AC/DC, Primus, Nine Inch Nail all kinds of artists. I love dancing to hip-hop, but I really don’t have any favorites.

Movies I love chic flicks and cartoons. I’ve never really been a fan of horror flicks. My favs include Notebook, Ratatouille, Sweet Home Alabama, Youve Got Mail…you get where this is going.

Television I love reality shows. I was on the Coyote Ugly Reality Show but I hated it. My favorites shows include Pussycat dolls, ANTM, Ghost Hunters, Dirty Jobs, Rock of Love, Make me a Supermodel….well all of them except American Idol…hate that shit!!

Books I dont read anything but war books and Cosmopolitian magazine. Oh yea and the Bible of course. Heroes All of our American Military men and women especially those close to me….Andrew Goldman, Jason Edmondson, Chris Willis, and my sweet uncle Kurt. Love and appreciate you guys. If you have a friend or relative serving I send me their name and I will post it here to show my appreciation.

The Kelly M. Bentley ‘s Details

Status: In a Relationship Here for: Networking, Friends Orientation: Straight Hometown: Alabama Body type: Slim / Slender Ethnicity: White / Caucasian Zodiac Sign: Libra Smoke / Drink: No / No Education: College graduate Occupation: Model

The Kelly M. Bentley ‘s Schools Southern Union State Community College Wadley, AL Graduated: 2002 Student status: Alumni Degree: Associate’s Degree Major: Computer Science

2000 to 2002

The Kelly M. Bentley ‘s Companies NOPI Motorsports Atlanta, Georgia US Nopi Chic Model

Construction Cuties Atlanta, Georgia US

M Bentley Productions Atlanta, Georgia US

The Kelly M. Bentley is Taking Over the F*cking World!

The Kelly M. Bentley ‘s Latest Blog Entry [Subscribe to this Blog]

Rob Sims and Kelly Bentley 2008 (view more)

RIDE FOR LIFE…..Relay For Life Charity Event (view more)

Coyote Ugly Episode 5…Thank God its Over! (view more)

National Glamour Showcase Florida (view more)

Coyote Ugly Episode 4 (view more)

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The Kelly M. Bentley ‘s Blurbs About me: Its hard to describe myself because I am constantly changing. So to start, above all else, I am a bad ass bartender. I bartend at OPERA Nightclub here in Atlanta, Geogia. Its the biggest and hottest club in Atlanta. I also bartend at the Irish Bred Carrollton where I can fulfill my bar dancing passion to AC/DC, Buckcherry (Crazy biotch!), and Def Lepard. I love serving up cocktails with a little sassy shake some come by either place and check me out!!

Second, I am a model and one of the hottest female entrepreneurs on this planet. In modeling, I specialize in glamour, fitness, and promotional modeling. I always have something going on somewhere. I’m partnering up with NOPI as a NOPI CHIC for 2008. I love doing charity work so keep updated on my events and help us out. As an entrepreneur, I own half of a calendar production company with JM Polsfuss that is responsible for the hottest calendar coming out in 2009 Construction Cuties. Watch for it!! I also just teamed up with get this…yes…The Rob Sims….which we will have my website launched by the end of Spring to help heat up the summer for you. Also watch for all the magazine covers, layouts, spreads, etc. coming soon…I told you guys I’ll be taking over the WORLD!! Lastly, I am a regular girl that had a dream and am still forcing it to come true come hell or high water. I’m from a small town, but I’m working hard to fulfill my big city dreams as well as those of other girls who want to be models with MODELICIOUS. So if you want to try modeling, don’t listen to people when they tell you that you cant do it, they said I couldn’t, and I look at me…so don’t listen, contact me and lets see what we can do. I DONT DO ANYTHING FOR FREE….so don’t ask. I have a small network of professional models I use and promote because they have become friends. Don’t ask for my contacts, because I work hard in promoting and networking myself so why should I just hand over my hard work to you. If you want my network, you pay for my network.

THINGS YOU WOULDN’T GUESS ABOUT ME: No one would ever guess that I used to be in the Army National Guard. I used to be on Active Reserve as the RA for SFC Robert Cornett. I got out in 2005. I also used to wiegh 170 lbs. I gained a huge amount of weight when I quit drinking and smoking. Yea a lot of you thought it would never happen. I quit cold turkey and the turkey went to my ass. I lost 50 lbs. on the Subway diet. I was recently on the Coyote Ugly Reality Show on CMT and hated every minute. I also have a degree in Political Science and Computer Science with a minor in Military Science. Just some cool quirks about me. TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF – The Survey Name: Kelly M Bentley Birthday: October 7th Birthplace: Anniston, Alabama Current Location: Atlanta, Georgia Eye Color: Green Hair Color: Blonde/Brunette..hell I don’t know Height: 5’5" if I’d stand up straight Right Handed or Left Handed: Right Your Heritage: Irish/German &..39;The Shoes You Wore Today:’ My beloved flip flops Your Weakness: Your Fears: airplanes, elevators, and scurrying vermon Your Perfect Pizza: cheese/pepperoni without any sauce Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Be at 8% Body Fat by the end of the year Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger: I dont even know how to set that shit up… Thoughts First Waking Up: What in the hell are the Backyardigans? Your Best Physical Feature: My big ghetto booty Your Bedtime: When ever my mind decides to quit thinking Your Most Missed Memory: No clue..too much memory lost Pepsi or Coke: Caffeine free coke MacDonalds or Burger King: both are some nasty shit…I dont put it in my body! Single or Group Dates: Cant remember my last date… Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: I don’t drink any tea Chocolate or Vanilla: Just hand over the chocolate and no one gets hurt Cappuccino or Coffee: Caffeine free Coffee Do you Smoke: hell no Do you Swear: I swear I cuss too much Do you Sing: Did you catch my show? Think I’ll stick to the shower. Do you Shower Daily: more than once Have you Been in Love: Only twice for sure Do you want to go to College: Been there done that Do you want to get Married: Umm….when I’m too old to know better Do you belive in yourself: more than anyother person besides Roy Do you get Motion Sickness: Do you think you are Attractive: No but others tend to disagree Are you a Health Freak: Absolutely Do you get along with your Parents: depends on the day of the week Do you like Thunderstorms: love them Do you play an Instrument: In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: don’t drink alcohol In the past month have you Smoked: I quit when I was 20 In the past month have you been on Drugs: hell no drugs are for weak people In the past month have you gone on a Date: I havent gone on a date in the past few years In the past month have you gone to a Mall: No..I hate the mall..I’m in need of another personal shopper In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: yea right…my trainer would shoot me In the past month have you eaten Sushi: I don’t eat fish In the past month have you been on Stage: too many times In the past month have you been Dumped: No In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: I wish In the past month have you Stolen Anything: No but someone stole two of my damned portfolios Ever been Drunk: Plastered on many occassions Ever been called a Tease: What girl hasnt Ever been Beaten up: No but I got launched off some steps one time Ever Shoplifted: no I only steal hearts How do you want to Die: at 200mph on the Autobahn What do you want to be when you Grow Up: I’m doing it but not grown up yet What country would you most like to Visit: Ireland In a Boy/Girl.. Favourite Eye Color: Any that don’t lie Favourite Hair Color: any that I can run my fingers through Short or Long Hair: either Height: all heights Weight: weight doesn’t matter Best Clothing Style: clothes dont make the man Number of Drugs I have taken: Don’t do drugs Number of CDs I own: not too many Number of Piercings: ears and belly button Number of Tattoos: 1 Number of things in my Past I Regret: only 1…if you know me you know what it is

CREATE YOUR OWN! – or – GET PAID TO TAKE SURVEYS!

Myspace Layouts – Myspace Editor – Image Hosting

Who I’d like to meet: TO ALL MODELS AND PHOTOGRAPHERS: Now that I am partnered up with Robs Sims who is the most published photographer on the planet also owner of FitBeauties and FitModels International Magazines, photographer for Oxygen, MuscleMag, InStyle, American Curves, Maxim, FHM, Mens Health…okay I’m tired already. Too many to list. Google him for the rest…lol. Rob and I will be offering photoshoots to ambitious models with the guarantee to be published. Yes there is a catch. 1)like I said I don’t do anything for FREE 2) Neither does he 3) you have to be approved by me first. Sorry ladies…I have to be picky. Feel free to submit to me for shoots with Rob. I will be honest and give you feedback. WE ARE THE ONLY ONES THAT CAN GUARANTEE YOU PUBLICATION IN MAJOR MAGAZINES.

Posted by dcsmith2752002 on 2008-06-23 13:19:11

Tagged: , KELLY , M , BENTLEY , IN , ATLANTA , GA , NIGHT , LIFE , BASIC , BLACK , FORMAL-WEAR , AND , CASUAL , -WEAR , ATTIRES

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ask-chaos-kin · 5 years

Text

Chaotic Adventures in Babysitting Chapter 4

Warning! Long chapter! Along with a lot of exposition to characters and mention of Scoutit. Co Written with @royalbabble

“Alright, Rose is finally asleep, there’s no Freaks wanderin’ around, and the base is locked down for the night,” Pancakes announced, trudging into the living room with his warhammer slung over his shoulder, exhausted.

“I’m honestly surprised the others have been gone this long,” Roseflame stated from the kitchen while putting away the last of the dishes they used for dinner.

“I mean, it’s only been a day,” Pancakes shrugged, his warhammer disappearing. He slid onto the couch and sighed, “I mean, it’s Nightmare Medic of all Freaks, there's gonna be a few hold ups,” Pancakes yawned, “Jester might have gotten distracted by a cat, Spypers van could have broken down, they could be trapped in his lair, who knows,” Pancakes shrugged, “Only thing I can say is that it’s a good thing Scoutit ain’t around them. She’d hold everyone up and probably try to fight Chaos. Weird considering Chaos is Ace and all,” Pancakes yawned again.

“Knowing her, she’d ask Jester for the flag and hold it up to Scoutit. Then again, I’m only a few months into being even slightly considered a freak myself. You and Chaos have been the only people I’ve gotten even remotely close with,”

“Yeah. Speaking of which, aren’t you Ace too?” Pancakes asked, sitting up.

“Greysexual,” She responded going to the loveseat, “You?” Pancakes shrugged.

“I have no fucking clue,” Pancakes said, “Maybe bi. I don’t know yet,”

“Probably bi,” She turned on the TV to the local news and weather station.

“Our forecast predicts severe thunderstorms tomorrow throughout the day and into the next morning. In other news, Nightmare Medic has been seen roaming around the streets of Big City. No one knows of his current motives but things have been on the sketchy side. Back to you Claire,”

Roseflame sighed but didn’t know if she should be relieved or worried worse.

“Hopefully this means he’s distracted with something else and not after our friends,” Roseflame commented.

“Hopefully. I mean, chances are that Jester will have him distracted from everyone else,” Pancakes said.

“I mean, part of me knows I shouldn't worry seeing as well, most of them are trained killers already, but then you have ones like Chaos and Jester,” She looked to Pancakes to see if he understood.

“Yeah. I mean, Jester isn’t in any real danger. They’re body is...um...Shit how do I explain this…” Pancakes said, searching for his words, “They’re body is like, a projection. It can’t actually be harmed in any meaningful way. It’s...Ok I mean yeah they can still feel pain and all that, but they’re body isn’t where they’re vulnerable at. It’s their artifact. Destroy the artifact, you kill Jester. And luckily,” Pancakes said, reaching over to pick up his bag, “Jester left their artifact here, so they’re safe,” Pancakes grinned, pulling out the golden item.

“Well, at least they’re safe. What about Chaos though? We both know she can take damage and her resilience can only last so long,” She wondered, always the worry wart like Pure. Pancakes scowled for a moment and bit his lip.

“Her i’m not too sure about. Jester can easily give her and anyone else cover or could absorb any damage for her, but I don’t know how long or how effectively they could do that for,”

“Exactly why i’m worried,” Roseflame slumped further into the loveseat. Pancakes was silent for a moment, wracking his brain for something to say.

A lightbulb went off in his head and he began digging into his bag.

“Actually, I think we can see what’s going on,” Pancakes started, formulating the beginning of a plan. He picked up the artifact again and held up the cube that Jester had given them, “Jester can use this artifact to spy on other Freaks-don’t ask how-and the artifact reacts to Jesters power in order to do that. So what if we use the magic in this box and use it on the artifact to try and look in on what the others are doing?” Pancakes suggested, grinning like he’d just solved the mystery of the universe.

“I dunno, what if we accidentally get ourselves trapped in Jesters artifact?” Roseflame asked him.

“I mean, as far as I know, the only way to get stuck in this thing is if Jester themselves allowed us in in the first place,” Pancakes said, turning the artifact over in his hands to look at the rose colored gem inserted into the item.

“True,” She moved over next to him on the couch, eyeing the gem as well, “It’s such a pretty gem,” She commented. She had been known to spend hours of her time looking at gems in stores with spiritual items.

“Wonder how they even got locked in this thing,” Pancakes commented, “Oh well. Let’s get started,” Pancakes twisted open the cube and watched as the strands of magic danced their way out, spinning and swirling until they knitted themselves together into another small Jester, this one red and green. Pancakes held up the artifact to the tiny projection, hoping that the magic would know what to do. As he held up the golden item, the Jester frowned at it and crossed its arms as if befuddled by what was being presented to it.

“Oh come on, we want to see what’s going on with our friends! Can’t you show us or something?” Pancakes pleaded. The mini Jester looked up at him and then back to the artifact, shrugging. Pancakes scowled.

“Can it not-?” Pancakes began before being abruptly cut off by a bright flash of light that burst from the gem of the artifact. The tiny Jester spun into the air, exploding into a dizzying display of twinkling starlight. The artifact began to violently shake in Pancakes hands, emitting what sounded like music at an almost deafening volume.

“What did you do?!” Roseflame shouted, covering her ears.

“HOW WOULD I KNOW!?” Pancakes screamed, throwing the artifact to the floor which only seemed to make things worse. A blinding array of colorful lights flashed from the gem, covering the room in a rave of colors from across the spectrum. Then, with a loud hissing sound, two beams of energy shot towards Roseflame and Pancakes, turning their bodies into colored clouds of smoke that were sucked into the gem in an astonishing spiral of psychedelic music and light, both screaming as they did not know what was going on.

As they slipped further and further down into the dazzling world of colors and light, the aggressiveness that was seen upon first being sucked in faded, and the colors softened to gentle swirls that were no longer painful on the eyes. As the colors faded and their vision became unclouded, the two Freaks found themselves standing on some kind of platform high up off the ground, as evidenced by the clouds swirling around them. Roseflame looked around and went stiff, clinging to Pancakes arm. An understandable reaction, especially from someone who had a fear of heights. He now was the only Freak to know this. Pancakes looked around for a moment, trying to get his bearings. He inched forward onto the platform and gasped, completely bewildered by what he was seeing.

It was a giant, sprawling, lively carnival with colors, lights, and music all around. The rides and attractions that stretched for as far as the eye could see also reached as high into the sky as far as the eye could see. It was crazy to now know exactly what Jesters home looked like

“How high up are we?” Roseflame asked shakily, the elevation they were at being the only thing she cared to know at the time. Pancakes looked down and swallowed hard.

“It...it looks like we’re up a good 300 feet,” Pancakes said carefully, mindful of where he was stepping.

“Oh sweet lords… And I thought that the monsters in the Slender realm where bad,” She was gripping tighter, he never would have guessed she could have such a death iron grip.

“Uhm…” Pancakes turned to his left and his right, searching for a way down. He took a step back away from the edge and hit the wall behind him. The surface seemed to cave inward against the pressure causing Pancakes to stumble backwards through an opening in the wall. Roseflame jumped back from Pancakes and staggered to stay on the platform, waving her arms as she struggled to stay balanced. Righting herself, she saw Pancakes on his ass, having fallen through a secret passage behind them. Wasting no time, she threw herself into the building and kicked the door shut behind her, just happy to we away from the platform edge.

“I hope to god this isn’t payback for abusing their magic,” She groaned as she looked around the new area.

“I doubt it. One, Jester doesn’t hold grudges. Usually. Two, they specifically gave me some of their magic to use whenever needed,” Pancakes groaned, getting up.

“... Is it just me or does this look like a trap door like in one of those carnival fun houses?” She looked down after helping Pancakes to his feet.

“Yeah...it does, doesn’t it?” Pancakes said slowly, rubbing his head. They both slowly looked at each other, there was nothing else around them in this room but what looked like a trap door.

“Fuck,” Roseflame swore. Pancakes began walking around the room and feeling around the walls for some kind of switch to let them out. Walking along the wall, his hand hit a slight indent in the brick. Brushing his palm over it, he could feel a slight draft coming from behind the wall. That must be the way out. He pressed down onto the small indent and the brick wall caved to the touch. Pancakes took a step back as several mechanical clicks sounded off from the wall and crept it’s way up into the ceiling, the two Freaks following the noise until it stopped directly above their heads.

“What the-”

The floor beneath them flew wide open, sending the two hurtling downwards into a brightly lit abyss. Screaming and flailing about, the two Freaks could only tumble through the air past the several hundred floors of the building, watching as the lights flashed past their vision.

“WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUCK!!” Pancakes screamed, flailing and clawing at the air as he tumbled downwards. The only thing else to be heard was the ear piercing screams of Roseflame as she floundered about.

Rushing to ground level, Pancakes covered his eyes and braced for impact, Roseflame beside desperately trying to right herself in the air in the hopes that landing on her feet wouldn’t result in her becoming a red smear on the floor.

Whump.

Pancakes smacked hard against a bouncy surface before being sent skyward again. Utterly confused by his predicament, he tried to look down to see what he had hit.

A bouncy castle!

Pancakes hurtled back down at it, this time trying to land in such a way that would prevent him from being sent upward again. Roseflame smacked down beside him as he landed, visibly jarred by the several hundred foot freefall drop.

“WE’RE ALIVE!!!!!” Roseflame announced in relief, throwing her arms up in victory. Pancakes flopped down on his stomach, the wind having been knocked out of him. He crawled his way out of the inflatable and tumbled out onto the floor, dizzy. He looked up upon climbing out and saw several floors above them, hundreds of people congregating on those floors for whatever reason. Beyond those floors, he could see where he and Roseflame had fallen out of. A small hole in the ceiling over 300 feet up slowly closed itself, as if it hadn’t sent the two Freaks to their supposed death. Roseflame crawled out after him.

“Not revenge my ass...” She looked him in the eyes.

“Oh come on, this is a carnival, we’re bound to run into things like that,” Pancakes said shakily.

“Name one time you went to a local fair and fell over 300 feet,” She looked like she was about ready to smack him.

“Does this look like your local fair!?” Pancakes exclaimed, making a massive broad gesture to the giant building they were in, “Besides, Jester can’t exactly die, it makes sense they’d be a little reckless with this place,” Pancakes wheezed, still in shock from the fall. He carefully got up, his legs shaking.

“You and me both know we got jello legs right now. And some of it looks like it. But not really,”

“Let’s just find a way out of here,” Pancakes sighed, looking around. He blinked in confusion as he turned away from the bouncy castle, “Woah, why are there a bunch of mercenaries here?” Pancakes asked. Roseflame followed his gaze and found him staring at an entire swarm of RED and BLU mercenaries, all dressed up in different outfits as they went about their business in this crazy place.

“I think they inhabit this place. Kinda like imaginary friends but denizens of this place,” She looked to see just how many there were.

“Huh. Didn’t know there were people in their artifact to be honest,” Pancakes remarked.

“They might just be something Jester made so they weren’t so lonely in here. Makes me feel bad for them,”

“Maybe,” Pancakes said. He waved over to a BLU Spy that was passing by, “Hey!” The Spy stopped from the crowd he was walking with and looked over to Pancakes. He was wearing a dark blue fedora with cards lodged in the hatband. He wore a decently formal suit with a large red bowtie. He smiled happily and sauntered over to the two Freaks.

“Hello there!” The Spy greeted cheerily, “What did you call me over for?”

“Yeah um, we got stuck in Jesters artifact by mistake because we were trying to use it to check in on our friends. Do you know how we get out of here?” Pancakes asked calmly. The Spy shook his head, grinning.

“Tsk tsk tsk. I’m afraid to inform you that that’s not how things work around here,” The Spy informed, “You see, Count Jester owns this place. They control everything here, and everything is directly tied to them. Whatever they want, this place can provide. As such, people cannot leave or get in without their permission,”

“But we didn’t get in with Jester. We used a box containing some of their magic-”

“And here’s where the problems present themselves,” The Spy interjected, raising a hand, “You using their magic does not automatically mean you have access to their artifact. Did the artifact react aggressively to you using Jesters magic on it?”

“Well...yeah but-”

“Then the artifact didn’t know what to do. It was being presented with Jesters magic, but not Jesters permission or presence. As such, it became confused and in a word-crashed. I saw it. Some of the carnival was pushed into the real world and the artifact tried to pull it all back in. In doing so, it brought you two with it. Now that you’re both in here with no access to Jesters magic at all, you’re stuck here until Jester themselves gets back to let you out,”

“Oh my god. We just left Rose by herself in the base. She’s gonna wake up crying,” Roseflame was pacing as the realization struck her. They left a five year old by themselves in a base without anyone to watch over her. Anyone could take her without anyone to rescue her. Her mind was going into hyperdrive in worry and she began to hyperventilate.

“Well..eheh...You see,” The Spy began, turning to Roseflame, “It appears that the blast from the artifact was just a bit larger in size than you thought,” The Spy said.

“What?! Is she gone?! HURT!?!!” Pancakes had to put a hand on her chest to calm her down slightly. She was extremely shaken.

“Well, no. It’s rather difficult to get hurt here-”

“SHE’S HERE!?” Pancakes screamed, it now being his turn to worry endlessly.

“...Yes,” The Spy confirmed matter-of-factly. Without another word, Roseflame fainted, and Pancakes wasn't too far from doing the same.

“Where is she?” Pancakes demanded. The Spy wrung his hands together with a nervous laugh.

“Well...I have no clue,” He admitted, “But! She is somewhere nearby,”

“And how close is ‘nearby’?”

“About halfway across the carnival,”

Now was Pancakes turn to faint.

***

Rose blinked out the swirling colors in her eyes, disoriented from the strange transition she’d just gone through. Rubbing her eyes and getting in grip on her senses, she sat up. Opening her eyes, she gasped in wonder at her surroundings. She was at ground level, in some kind of brightly lit building filled to the brim with stuffed animals. She looked around, a crazy grin spreading across her face. It was like a giant Build-A-Bear workshop! She stumbled to get up and check out her surroundings, wanting to see what this strange new place had to offer. She waddled to one of the giant stacks of stuffed animals and reached out to take one, but they were situated above where she could reach. Even standing on the balls of her feet she couldn’t quite grab any of the toys.

“Hey kiddo, what you doing over here?” A voice similar to Anthony’s called out to her. Turning around, she found a BLU Scout standing nearby, wearing goggles, a down vest, and what looked like a pilots hat. He grinned at her and ambled over to the stack of animals and pointed at the one she was reaching for, as if to ask if this was what she was after. Rose nodded quickly and extended her arms out to it. He got it down for her carefully so nothing else fell on her.

“‘Ey! What are you doing over there? We have more stuffed animals to make!” Another voice called. Rose watched as a BLU Engineer wearing a cowboy hat and what looked like winter clothing rounded the corner, holding a half finished stuffed crocodile.

“There’s a kid over here!” He called, waving the Engineer over, “I think she got pulled in when the carnival nearly got out,”

“Aw shucks, another one?” The Engineer sighed, “That makes three in just a day,”

“Think we should try to take her to the others?” The Scout asked as Rose walked over to him, tugging on his vest to be picked up. He obliged and carried her, “Who knows how long until Jester gets back,”

“Here’s hoping nothing happens to them,” The Engineer said, “Well, I mean, if something DID happen to them that was enough to destabilize their form, they’d come back here immediately to reform, but Jester’s not the kind of person to deliberately tolerate pain,” The Engineer shrugged.

“Yeah, from the chit chat I heard around, they other two got the High Drop. They’re currently at one of the rest areas since they fainted not long after,” The Scout stated while Rose looked around the area, admiring the many stuffed animals around them.

“Well then we better head over there,” The Engineer said, “The Centerpiece is halfway across the carnival though,”

“I could make it no sweat. It’ll take me less time to get there. Unless you wanna use the cart dat is,” The Scout suggested, looking at a golf cart that was parked near what looked like a garbage that led out of the workshop. It looked like it was used for getting stuffed animals from place to place while Jester was gone.

“Yeah let’s use that,” The Engineer said. The two climbed into the cart and set Rose in between them while the Engineer cranked up the vehicle, “Wonder if Jester will be ticked off when they get back,” He thought aloud.

“Who knows. Knowing them, they'll ask the two what they were trying to do in the first place,” The Scout said while buckling Rose in.

“Probably,” The Engineer sighed. The cart roared to life and the Engineer backed up the vehicle for a moment to give enough room to drive out of the workshop, “Hey! Look after the workshop while we’re gone!” She called. Rose peeked over the dashboard and saw a RED Heavy lean from behind another pile of stuffed animals. He smiled and gave a thumbs up and disappeared back behind the tower. The Scout then looked around for oncoming people.

“You’re clear to go,” the Scout announced, still keeping an eye out. The Engineer turned the cart towards the garage and drove through, mindful of the people within taking stock of several other items that were stacked high to the ceiling.

“Don’t you worry sweetie, we’re gonna get your to your friends soon enough,” The Engineer assured calmly, glancing down a Rose. She smiled at him, not seeming to mind her current predicament.

***

Pancakes jolted awake, dazed and confused. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he shifted in the bed and rolled over onto his back with a groan. Roseflame was still knocked out in the bed beside his. He’d probably have to wake her up himself. With a grunt, Pancakes forced himself to sit up, being confronted once again by the bright colors of Jesters world. He scooted to the edge of the mattress and slid off the bed, stumbling as his feet hit the floor.

“You sure you should be walking around right now?” A nearby RED Medic said, this one wearing a vest with clear bottles and syringes stuffed into the pockets, surgical equipment that was wrapped around his left arm, and a surgical mask. Strange. Pancakes didn’t expect Jester to put actual doctors in their world. The Medic approached briskly, wasting no time in crossing the distance between himself and the Freak.

“I can walk-” Pancakes said as he was abruptly interrupted by himself plopping back onto the bed.

“Now just sit down for a moment. You weren’t hurt or anything, but because you fainted your blood needs some time to get back up to your brain,” The Medic said, “Just take it easy for a moment and you’ll be on your way soon,”

Roseflame let out a small groan, she looked like she was about to wake up. That was until she turned her body to her side that he realized she had just entered REM.

“Well, she’s not waking up anytime soon,” Pancakes sighed. He rubbed his face and attempted to stand again, “Where’s Rose? You guys said Rose was here too,” Pancakes asked.

“Like we said, Rose is halfway across the carnival,”

“Ok but where exactly?”

“We don’t know. We can only tell the general location of outsiders to this world, we can’t actually pinpoint their location,” The Medic explained, shrugging. Pancakes sighed as soon as he heard Roseflame snoring slightly. He glanced down at his bed. He had an extra pillow he could throw at her to wake her up. He snatched up the pillow and took a moment to fluff it up before hurling it at Roseflame, hitting her right in the head. She snarked and flailed a bit before shooting her glare at him.

“Asshole,” She looked at him before noticing the Medic, “Oh, hi there,”

“Hello,” The Medic greeted kindly.

“How long were we out for?” She asked, concern in her voice upon realizing they were in a different location.

“About 30 minutes. Maybe. Time works a bit differently here than in the real world,” The Medic said with a vague gesture towards nothing in particular, “When you fainted you were brought here to one of the rest areas,”

“So this isn’t a hospital?” Pancakes quizzed, looking around.

“Ehe, no. The hospital areas are halfway across the carnival,” The Medic explained as he ambled over to a set of curtains and pulled them aside to reveal a balcony that led out to a perfect view of the carnival. The Medic pointed to a large structure straight ahead from the rooms view, “That is the Infirmary. Jester made this world in such a way that it’s impossible to be hurt, but they decided to put in a hospital area anyways just in case,” The Medic said.

“I mean, in our case we fainted from shock. So we weren’t really hurt or anything,” Roseflame commented, forcing herself to sit on the bed.

“I work at the Infirmary but the Partygoers here called me in to check on you two,”

“Partygoers?” Pancakes asked.

“That’s what we’re called,” Said the Medic.

“Makes sense, given this is Jesters world after all,” Roseflame commented, “It still begs the question, what are we supposed to do until Jester gets back? We don’t belong here, especially without Jester around,” She wondered. There was no doubt in her mind that they would be miffed at the two teenagers.

“You could stay here in the rest area until Jester gets back. Or you could go outside and enjoy the carnival for the time being. Or you could go and search for the little one,” The Medics suggested, looking out to the carnival.

“Probably look for her, and enjoy the carnival. Haven’t been to one before, well-”

“Other than local fairs?” Pancakes snarked, giving her an annoyed look whilst finishing her sentence.

“Yes, other than local fairs,” She groaned out. The Medic sauntered over to some kind of system nearby with several tubes running up from it into the ceiling. He plugged in a few numbers into a keypad. He then opened up a compartment on the terminal and removed a container and placed it inside one of the tubes. With a whoosh, the container was shot through the tube and carried away.

“Must be a delivery system or somethin’,” Pancakes pondered aloud. After a few moments, the container came back through the tube with something inside it. It came to a halt back at the entrance point of the tube and emitted a soft ding. The Medic removed the cylinder and popped it open, removing two bottles of flavored water from inside.

“We’re running short on flavors, so all we have at the moment is orange flavored water,” The Medic said sheepishly. He placed the container back into the terminal and came back over to the bed to give the two Freaks their respective beverages.

“How in the fuck?” Pancakes breathed, looking at the bottle.

“That system,” The Medic said, jabbing a thumb back at the terminal, “It's how we Partygoers ask for drinks and food from all over the carnival. All these tubes are connected to food courts, and if we want something to eat or drink, we just plug in the respective calling number for it, put the canister inside a tube, and then off it goes for pickup. Then it comes back with whatever we ordered and we put the canister back into the terminal,”

“Talk about fast food. So where are we right now? I know we were at some Big Top/Casino earlier before we fell over 300 feet onto a bouncy castle,” Roseflame asked, starting to drink her water.

“Oh, you’re still in the same building,” Informed the Medic, “This place,” The Medic said with a broad sweeping motion around him, “Is The Centerpiece. Count Jesters home. This is where Jester watches over the carnival, where some of the most extravagant parties are held, and where most of the madness goes down. It also happens to be where we all go to tuck in whenever Jester goes to sleep. This place is like a giant castle crossed with a Casino. Minus the gambling of course,”

“Holy fuck, how big is this place?” Pancakes asked, surprised.

“Hard to say,” The Medic said slowly, “I mean, it��s big enough to comfortably hold over 10 million Partygoers-”

“10 MILLION!?” Pancakes cried, thunderstruck by the sheer size of the population that could somehow fit inside a single building.

“...Yes that’s about how many Partygoers live here…” The Medic affirmed.

“Wow, guess Jesters never really been alone huh?” Roseflame stated. At least they’ve been in good company for a while since they’ve gotten their powers.

“Never,” The Medic confirmed.

“How long until we’re given the go ahead to leave?” Roseflame asked as she was finishing her water.

“You have to wait until Jester gets back,” The Medic replied.

“I mean medically, go from the rest area,”

“Ah. Well, you can go ahead and leave right now,” The Medic said, “The door’s unlocked, you’re free to roam around if you like,” And with that, the Medic headed out of the room.

***

Chaos and her team were leading the Freaks carefully towards Nightmare Medic’s lair, everyone on edge and minding exactly where their footsteps fell.

“He could be nearby so everyone stay on guard,” Chaos explained as they reached the edge of the forest towards the lair. Brutal was bored out of his mind following orders. He listened to Pure enough as it was that everyone else doing something similar disinterested him to no end.

“Any signs Major?” Chaos asked their escort.

“No sign of Nightmare anywhere,” Major Scout Guy remarked, looking around the area of the base, “Anything Soldine?”

“Negative,” Soldine responded, his robotic voice coming through in a mess of static through the handheld radio Major had brought with him.

“If Jester had brought their artifact with them they could just pinpoint where Nightmare is and we’d be on our way,” Brutal groaned.

“And they could have also been put in worse danger than we already are in. But these BLU’s still deserve a rescue, even if we have to put cones on your hands once we get them out of the dungeon,” Chaos commented.

“I don’t enjoy working with him, but we do appreciate the help Chaos,” Major Scout Guy gave a smile to her.

“My team’s closely associated with you guys, even if you threaten to kill my extended family,” She commented. Her new Soldier and Demo were part of HECU before joining her team. They kept ties in order to better help the association.

As they continued walking, Jester kept an eye on them from the sky, their form having shrunken down tiny enough that they could easily be mistaken for a bird and nothing more.

“Seeing anything Jester?” Chaos asked through her own small radio.

“Nothing up here,” Jester radioed back, “I’m really wishing I had brought my artifact with me, I could find Nightmare in no time,” Jester sighed.

“Least it’s in good hands, well Roseflames if not Pancakes,” Chaos assured, quickly radioing to her Sniper to move to a nearby cliff, “Speaking of which, was that on purpose or accident?”

“On purpose. I’d rather not risk being destroyed,” Jester said, “Now I'm just wishing I'd brought it with me to speed things along,”

“On the bright side, we have Soldine and Major with us,” Chaos motioned to Major.

“So you’re that Count Jester we’ve been hearing about, the one who helped take down Grave,” Major Scout Guy entered the radio chat.

“Yep, that’s me,” Jester said.

“Good to know we have people like you on our side,” He gave them a thumbs up.

“Just don’t give them any sugar or you’ll have them bouncing off the walls like a goddamn pachinko machine,” Brutal added.

“No readings of anomalies, Nightmare is out of the building. We should be able to quickly get in and get the team out,” Soldine informed everyone over the radios.

“Good to hear. As much as I understand you guys bringing me along i’d rather not be thrown around by the spawn of sata-OW!” Jesters words were abruptly cut off by a pained yelp that peaked the speakers of the radios.

“What’s wrong Jester?!” Chaos called over the radio, she and Major watching as Jester was returning to normal size and floating down. The two quickly rushed to their aid. The energetic Freak dropped back down to earth and staggered for a moment, holding the side of their head.

“I just got a sharp pain in my head,” Jester winced.

“Need some help standing up?” Major Scout guy moved into a position to help them keep stable.

“Thanks,” Jester huffed, rubbing their temples.

“I didn’t know you could even get headaches,” Brutal remarked beside.

“Neither did I,” Jester said. They took their hand away from their head and briskly turned around to face the direction where Chaos’ base was. They blinked for a second and then scowled, “Someone is gonna get smacked,” Jester bit, folding their arms. Chaos earned a shocked and confused face.

“Who?” Both freaks stepped back as Jester started to get an angry glint in their eyes, “They’re at the base?” Chaos asked in concern

“Yes,” Jester snapped, sparks began to fly off their body. Everyone took a small step back from the Jester, both to keep themselves clear of the sparks and to avoid any potential outburst, “Someone,” Jester started, turning back to the rest of the group, “Has invaded my personal space. Without my permission,” Major Scout Guy gulped, worried he might have upset the normally jovial freak.

“Welp, that’s not good,” Brutal remarked.

“L-look, I didn’t mean-”

“What do you mean Jester? Was it Major?” Chaos asked in worry.

“No, it’s wasn’t him. It was someone else. Three someone else’s to be exact,” Jester said. Soldine landed near them and gestured to the lair. Chaos’ eyes went wide and she looked back in the direction of her base. That wasn’t good...

“We can solve this problem at a later time, I suggest getting the BLU team out before more trouble is caused,” Soldine suggested. Everyone jumped-except Soldine-as a portal opened behind him without warning, and a white spy walked through to join them.

“Sorry to pop in unannounced, but hopefully you don’t mind me joining this time,” Pure announced, looking upon the startled group.

#Count Jester #Chaos Kin #Ass Pancakes #Chaotic Adventures in Babysitting #Christian Brutal Sniper #christian pure spy #Spyper #Major Scout Guy #Soldine #Freak Fortress 2 #Roseflame

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paladin-andric · 5 years

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When Worlds Collide (Part One)

The start of a story I’ve had on my mind for quite a while. A fantasy/real life crossover! This could be a book if I really wanted it to be...

What will happen to our lost army? Will they ever find their way home? How did they get here? How can they cope with the fantastical world of Deaco, and can someone stop them before they do any damage?

“Steady...STEADY!”

The howling winds and mad currents were paired with the pouring thunderstorm, all around them only the fierce and deathly oceans as their ship lost all control.

“The sails are down,” a sailor cried, the sails are down!”

The sight of the quarry of sharp stone rocks they were approaching signaled what was about to happen.

“HOLD ON TO SOMETHING!” Edward screamed, clutching onto the handles beside him before the entire ship rocked violently. The nobleman was thrown overboard, hitting something and losing consciousness immediately. He did not see the rest of the ship capsize.

The Hundred Years’ War was raging on in Europe. It had taken a turn for the worse in recent years, with the English power base in France relegated to Normandy and Gascony.

In an ambitious and risky move, the English Crown decided to ferry a relief force around the French coast to Gascony, to assist in holding the line against the French troops, who were gaining more and more ground by the day.

However, the ship never made it to port. It vanished somewhere in the Bay of Biscay, after having crossed the English Channel. It was assumed they were sunk by the French navy, and all soldiers and navy men aboard killed.

This was far from the case, however. In the ocean, a freak hurricane suddenly came from nowhere, sank the navy, and vanished, leaving no witnesses...and though the fleet was sank, its inhabitants certainly didn’t drown.

“Sir...sir!”

The first thing Edward felt was the icy and wet feeling of soaked clothes. He felt water lapping at him from below, submerged up to the waist. Above that he could feel sand on his face.

“Sir...get up! Come on!”

Edward groaned, slowly pushing himself off the ground and raising his head, blinking as his vision began to return.

A blurry figure was kneeling above him. He shook his head and wiped the grains of sand from his beard before focusing on the figure.

“Ah, you live! Thanks be to God.”

He could make out the face of a young and clean-shaven man.

“Agh...Harry?”

“Yes, it’s me sir! We’ve been looking all over for you!”

There was still a dull pain at the back of his head. He’d slammed into the rocks and been knocked out when the ship fell over.

“What happened? I thought we drowned at sea…”

“That’s what we all thought, but...it’s a miracle! Look around you!”

Shaking himself fully awake, Edward finally managed to get a good look at where he was.

He was on a beach, his legs still at the very edge, water washing over them as the waves peaked. All around them was white sand, trees, and sunny skies.

It was beautiful. To think he had been in a hellish nightmare of darkness and cruelty just a short while ago…

“Looks like we washed up ashore! What grand luck! Jesus is surely protecting us!”

“B-but...I thought we were out away from the coasts...in the ocean.”

“Perhaps there was an island nearby,” Harry said with a shrug, “Here, take my hand.”

“Not necessary,” Edward answered hastily, quickly getting to his feet. He took a deep breath and wiped at his clothes, wet sand clinging to them. “Huh...I’ll need my things washed at some point...how many made it?”

“That’s the thing sir,” the soldier answered, “It seems...everyone.”

“W-what?!”

“Yeah! I mean, the teams are still spread out searching, but...the vast majority of the army has been found, and we’re still not done sweeping the beaches yet.”

“Maybe Jesus really is protecting us…” Edward muttered.

“Well, we were looking for you, sir. As the commander, you’re the one who’ll decide our next moves. We’re not sure what this means for the campaign...what shall we do?”

Edward scratched his beard for a moment. “...we move out. I want this island explored, and its resources identified. We need a steady supply of food and water, and after that we need to start assembling tools and cutting down trees. After that, we make rafts and try our luck in the sea again.

“Sir?! Rafts...in the ocean?!”

“No one knows we’re here. The Kingdom probably thinks we’re all dead. If we wait for rescue, we’re gonna be stuck on this island for the rest of our lives.

“Someone must pass by eventually...we’re just off the coast of France!”

Edward shook his head. “We can’t assume that. Besides, we gave the coast a huge berth. This could be an undiscovered island for all we know. We need to build rafts, set off on a clear, calm day, and try for the French coast. We can try to make a run for Gascony once we’re there. It’s our only chance of getting back home.”

Harry nodded. “Yessir.”

The group continued scouring the beach, finding the remaining members of the army. Stranger still was the fact that not only did every man there seem to be alive, but the horses too! How in world could every single soul aboard the boats survive such a violent crash?!

Soon they set out, surveying the area. Of course, things took a strange turn almost immediately. They thought they were on a small island, but as they left the beach, they found not a tropical jungle, but a temperate countryside. There was no end in sight, and the sight of it reminded them of the cultivated farmlands of their country.

Furthermore, their exploring appeared without end. No matter how far they sent scouts, they never did reach the other side of the island. Was it possible...had they crashed onto the French mainland somehow?

No, the French countryside was heavily populated, they would have ran into fishermen, or farmers, or craftsmen or SOMETHING by now…

“This...doesn’t seem like an island,” Edward said quietly. He was atop his horse, a white stallion that had carried him across several battlefields.

The Earl frowned as he looked at the eerily familiar countryside. Harry moved beside him, on his own horse. All around them, knights rode and soldiers marched.

“Indeed,” the soldier agreed, “It’s almost as if…”

“...we never left,” Edward finished.

Harry nodded. “T-that’s right.”

The chief difference was that it was a lovely day right now. The warm and sunny skies was a stark contrast to the seemingly endless thunderstorms that had been plaguing England shortly before he left.

A rustle from a nearby bush broke the silence, and the Earl’s eyes widened in response. He moved his lance to the right and pointed it at the shrubbery. “Who goes there?! Show yourself!”

Nothing.

“Probably just a rabbit, sir.”

“I give you to the count of three!” Edward cried, “One...two…!”

Amazingly, a figure did indeed emerge from the bushes.

“Hark! We-BY GOD!”

Edward’s announcement was cut short by the one that showed themselves to the Englishmen.

A small, bizarre creature slowly rose to its feet and stood plainly in sight. It looked like a lizard, but stood upright. It wore ragged brown fabrics, and stood hunched over, looking guilty.

It was a monster.

“W-what in God’s name?!”

“R-reptile! Reptile!”

“MONSTER!”

“BEAST!”

The army erupted into pandemonium, reeling from the shock of seeing such a beast.

Edward pointed at the creature. “D-demon! It’s a demon!”

“Demon?!” the thing shouted back in confusion. It had a high-pitched, scratchy voice. This only furthered their shock.

“It can TALK?!”

“It knows such things…”

Harry was wild-eyed as he too joined the shocked crowd. “My God!” the soldier cried, “It can speak! The demon can speak the tongue of the Englishman!”

“Stop calling me that!” the beast cried.

“Demon! You’re a DEMON!”

“No I’m NOT!”

Edward lowered his lance. “Cut the fiend down! It has no right to live!”

“N-no, wait, you can’t!” it insisted, “You can’t hurt us! You promised!”

“We made no such promise, hellspawn!”

“It’s TRUE! The humans said we can live here in peace with them! I-if you hurt us...the wrath of the kingdom descends upon you!”

“The Kingdom?!” Edward yelled back, “France KNOWS about this?!”

“France…?” the lizard tilted its head.

“My God, I always knew they were depraved Satanist FIENDS! Once I deliver your head to Rome, the king himself will be excommunicated for summoning demons!”

“Degenerate scum!” One of the soldier screamed, “Heathens!”

“W-what are you talking about?! What’s France?!”

“Don’t play stupid, servant of hell!” Edward’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at the lowly creature before him, “France is the Kingdom you speak of! The ones who shield you from Christendom!”

“I-I don’t know what France or Christendom is, honest!”

“Enough lies! We will cut you down!”

“WAIT!” the monster held its claws up, “Y-you want proof, right?! Wouldn’t I be better proof alive?! Take me captive, I won’t cause you any trouble!”

The Earl frowned. “And give you a chance to work your black magic? Never.”

“I-I don’t know any magic, honest! This must be some misunderstanding…”

The commander readied his lance. “I am Lord Edward, Earl of Oxford! Remember me well, demon, and tell Satan who sent you back to the depths of Hell!”

The lizard stepped back, head shaking wildly. “Y-you can’t be serious...please, don’t…”

“Get BACK!”

Another voice made the army turn.

Another small lizard jumped out, claws waving around wildly. Around those claws, flames danced.

“Get back! Leave my friend alone! Or else I’ll...I’ll burn you to cinders!”

He flung a fireball at the crowd, the burst of flames thankfully hitting the ground. Everyone reeled back in sheer disbelief.

“Black magic! They ARE demons!”

“SLAY THEM!”

The lizard turned to his friend. “Mepin...RUN!”

The pair bolted, the cavalry in hot pursuit. Their speed was shocking, and they vanished into the forest behind them. As the army gave chase, others observed…

A pair of women watched the army chase the kobolds off into the woods, huddled behind a wooden fence. The army carried strange banners that neither of them had ever seen before.

One of the women spoke. “France? Oxford? These are not places in Geralthin...are we under attack? Are there other human kingdoms out there?”

“Impossible,” her friend answered, “There’s none in the entire world! We’re all that there is…”

The woman frowned. This was bad news.

“We’d better tell someone.”

Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadhorner, @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @reya-writes

#england #fantasy #writing #kingdom of england #possible book?#maybe

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thorinkingoferebor · 6 years

Text

Some thoughts on the horse accident simulator and sad outlaws :(

okay, so this is the big old game impressions post I promised. don’t know how organized it’ll be since I’m still in a state of grief but here we go. First part is spoiler free, whenever there’s a number after a comment you can scroll down to the end to find a more in-depth comment containing spoilers. There’s a clear separation between the spoiler-free part and the rest with a lot of empty lines so you can stop ready before it gets dangerous^^

General comments:

in case you somehow managed to miss this despite me screaming about this game for 3+ weeks: I loved it. So freaking much! I don’t want to rank it cause it’s all still fresh and it wouldn’t be a fair competition atm but it’s definitely in my top 3. there are so many things this games just gets right. Granted, others might disagree but to me, it was the perfect mix of main missions, side missions, RPG elements, perfect map size, dramatic dialogue without overdoing it, etc.

I actually wasn’t planning on buying this game, I was saving money for the new Fallout game (that was before that whole mess) and then more or less bought it on a whim because a) it looked amazing, b) I’d had a rough week and I wanted to shoot virtual things and c) my favourite online news website trashed it and whenever they trash an open world RPG I just know I’m gonna love it cause they have the absolute worst taste in games^^

I bought rdr1 a couple of years ago but never got around to actually playing it. I still know almost nothing about it apart from who the main character is and where it’s set. I’d like to keep it that way so I can enjoy that at some point as well :)

If you haven’t finished yet, I really recommend getting a good horse early on and sticking with it. The final scene with your horse will be even more emotional if you’ve had it for most of the game :))))))))))))))))))))

I suspected this game would wreck me and it did :)))))))) I think the only game that affected me more was ME3. But yeah, I cry easily when I watch stuff and I was gone from the moment Arthur put on his head in Chapter six to the end (which is quite a while and it involves fight scenes and everything! Try shooting people when you’re busy crying!) and then again through the credits after the epilogues.

This game is HUGE! Not because the map is big or because the plot takes so long, it’s just so full and alive. Very hard to describe but it’s just so big!

Stuff I liked:

THE HORSES! Absolutely amazing! That (and landscapes) are probably what people talked the most about when it was released and it’s understandable. The animations and the handling is just unbelievable. I can’t even imagine how much work went into this and that’s probably not even the most impressive thing about the game!

The landscape is stunning but honestly, HZD was just as stunning, had the same kind of diversity regarding climate zones and yet RDR2 does something I haven’t seen to that extent in any other game so far: It makes the land around you feel alive! That’s down to tiny things like being able to see the individual rain droplets in the fog when you hold up a lantern, the way a bush moves around you when you walk through it (the first time I saw that I literally gasped!), rockslides and avalanches, wheel tracks in the mud, localised dirt on Arthur or the horse when you fall down. And then, of course, there are the bigger, scripted additions like railroads being built, houses burning down or being erected as the game progresses, trees being taken down or burning after a thunderstorm, animals around you interacting with other animals, animal carcasses decaying if you leave them, predators hunting prey (like have you seen this stuff? It’s insane!). Then you have NPCs that remember you and make references to your last meeting, NPCs are repulsed when you still have some blood on you, people you beat up sporting a bandage the next time you see them, having to remember to cut your hair and beard and take a bath, someone you captures freaking out when you place them too close to water because they might drown, a farmer fixing their fence after you accidentally rode through it a couple of days ago, Arthur quietly singing when you ride for too long without doing anything, your fellow outlaws having interactions that don’t involve you at all! There is so much detail in this game and it’s not like other games haven’t done a similar thing but not to this extent. It generates an immersion that I think is currently unparalleled. Absolutely incredible and you can tell that (despite the frankly unacceptable working conditions that were reported) people put their heart and soul into it.

I loved the fact that there weren’t too many side quests as there often are in RPGs (and most of the times they are somewhat repetitive). I felt there were just the right amount of additional quest markers on my map at any given time and apart from like “Hey mister race me!” quests every single one of them was unique! And most of the time you met well-developed NPCs you could later meet again! (Mickey and Hamish and the widow whose name I can’t remember right now stand out here <3)

The lighting in this game is out of this world! I think there was only one scene in which it didn’t quite work but apart from that every in-game scene might as well have been a cutscene for its beauty

It’s utterly heartbreaking and since I apparently love being sad this is perfect for me ;)

I loved the fact that they took accidental dialogue interruptions into account with the whole “right, where were we” thing

The motion capture and voice acting is brilliant! And as far as I can tell many of the actors haven’t even really done anything big but everyone was so stellar and Arthur’s actor really delivered!

Love my outlaw gang so much :’) especially the relationships between Arthur and John, Dutch, Sadie, Hosea, and Charles

and I LOVE Arthur! What an incredible main character and what a fantastic character journey! [1]

(connected to the point above) probably my absolute favourite thing about the entire game: The game objective changes drastically 3/4 of the way through and suddenly things that used to be a disadvantage are the opposite and the other way around. It’s brilliant! [2]

The music is so stunning! Both the background ambient music during free play but most importantly the songs they recorded and worked in so seamlessly. I still get goosebumps thinking about “Might I (Stand unbroken)”

Stuff I didn’t like:

I don’t think I’ve had any bugs (which is really surprising for a game of this size) except two instances of the dialogue disappearing for like a minute or so. It didn’t bother me that much, just turned on the subtitles for a bit and it was fine but yep, I did find some bugs

I feel like a horse that is able to bolt if it sees a snake or a predator should be able to not hit a solitary tree that I obviously did not want to ride into ;) like I get the collisions in dense forest areas but in open planes I feel like the horse should be smart enough to take a step to the side without me prompting it ;)

it’s really easy to accidentally murder someone :( and I feel like the bounty system needs an update. If I accidentally walk into someone who gets offended and then starts shooting at me even though I’m apologizing then I shouldn’t get a bounty for knocking him out so he won’t kill me :/

I really did not like the “supernatural” stuff... I know they were just easter eggs and not relevant in any way but they just threw me off completely

There was one character I think I was supposed to connect to and I just didn’t which was a bit of a shame [3]

I wish there was a mission to the west (think Arizona, Utah landscape) I would have loved to ride through there with Arthur

I’m sure I missed quite a bit and I haven’t done everything in the game by far (only like 80% completion). I didn’t hunt much apart from the first two chapters, I didn’t craft much, I didn’t explore as much as I wanted to and I waited until like Chapter five before spending money. So there’s lots of stuff I still want to do and even more, I want to do again and really take my time now that I don’t have to be worried about accidentally reading a spoiler^^

So yep, second playthrough (albeit a much slower one) is about to start :)

SPOILERS WILL START BELOW! STOP READING HERE IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED!

SPOILERS APPROACHING!

THERE BE SPOILERS BELOW!

[1] Arthur’s Character:

Arthur Morgan is definitely one of my all-time fictional characters now. It was an amazing journey from someone who clearly has a moral code but doesn’t (want to) use it for various reasons to someone who (probably for the first time in his life) takes charge of it and stands up to the people who want to make into something he’s just not. I’m an absolute sucker for character growth and rough characters becoming protective and selfless and trying to make the world a better place before they go. For me, that’s what separates a good movie/tv show/game from an excellent one and RDR2 delivered!

And then there’s the’s the huge TB bombshell in chapter 5 which changes everything and accelerates what’s been coming for a while. I’m such a big fan of this, honestly. Normally you get that kind of stuff at the beginning (e.g. Breaking Bad, Deadpool, etc.) to motivate some kind of change but in RDR2 you get all this time see Arthur not be who he clearly should be but getting closer and closer and then the dam just breaks. I mean I hate it with all my heart because up until then I thought he might get out alive but damn what a wonderful character arc!

[2] Game Objective:

So this is the big one, very subtle I think but again something I don’t think I’ve ever seen a video game do and I’m just stunned!

I started writing a list for this post when I was in Chapter 2 and I had “Honour system” on my “stuff I don’t like list”. The reason for that was, I thought it was pointless and not well thought through. Sure it’s a nice idea (and not a new one) to give the player the option of being a very nice or a very bad guy and then depending on that some interactions might change. That’s the whole nature of RPGs. But the thing is, it should be equally easy to play as totally good or totally bad. And it wasn’t! For most of the game, you were at a severe disadvantage if you were trying to get high honour. You can’t rob people to get some money, you can’t rob carriages or trains to train for the larger missions and gain experience, you can’t refuse to collect a debt instead you have to beat people! Sure, now and then you can help someone and they give you some money or some supplies but that doesn't compare to what you’d get by looting corpses. And even if you somehow do something really good and your honour improves, you will still have to take part in Dutch’s raid so you fall back down to some area in the middle. I thought that was frustrating and I thought I was missing out on a big part of the game experience because my objective to be nice got in the way.

But then Arthur got sick and from that moment the rewards for being nice were insane! And I realized that the game objective was directly tied to Arthur’s internal struggle. He wanted to be a good man but life made it seemingly impossible so he kept stealing, he kept killing, he kept turning back to bad habits. But once he broke free of that, once he started to see the good in the world it was suddenly so easy to get high honour because for once the game (aka Dutch’s influence on Arthur) didn’t force you into dishonourable situations anymore. It’s so neat! Turning something that used to be a disadvantage (wanting to be good) into an advantage more than halfway through the game. I’m honestly so impressed by the total gear change that achieved!

[3] Mary:

Here’s the thing: I really want to like her and it’s not even that I dislike her, I’m just really indifferent. It’s obvious Arthur loves her a lot and it’s obvious she loves Arthur quite a bit as well but all I saw in the game are two people who might like each other but who are clearly not compatible. And I was wondering if the game wants me to root for them, to hope that they’ll make it and basically have the life John and Abigail have at the end of the epilogue but I kept thinking: “That will never work”. I think it’s mainly because we see so little of her and like 40% of what she says is “Oh, Arthur” (which gets old real quick the same way “I have a plan, Arthur!” gets old after 20 times). I feel like if she’d been around for more missions I might feel very differently. Or some flashbacks might have been nice. But with about 60+ hours of gameplay and about 30 minutes of Mary I just couldn’t connect. It seemed like a relationship that was way past it’s prime just like their outlaw lifestyle and just like the outlaw lifestyle Arthur just didn’t want to believe it.

That being said, I don’t think Mary shouldn’t be in the game! I think she has a purpose and I did her first mission very early one, so that was the first time that I saw Arthur display complex emotions which was great! But as the story went on I just cared so much more about the other outlaws and I honestly think Arthur would have been happier being Jack’s weird uncle who drops in from time to time than Mary’s proper, upstanding husband. So in the end, some outlaws standing next to Arthur’s grave would have made more sense to me than Mary :/

#text posts by thea #thea plays rdr2 #ok here it is #it's a long one ;)#i have many emotional opinions ;)

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demixrivers-blog · 6 years

Text

➤ ➤ CONTINUED FROM HERE. In memory of @abbyslxve.

through her closet, her black destressed shirt in mind to go with her white jeans, the brunette ruffled through hangers – the metallic blade of hangers gliding across the weighted rail that held everything up. “UGH – that fucking psycho.” Pressing digits through her roots and pausing momentarily, weighing up all of the places that Abigail could have been, Demetria pursed her lips and allowed her hands to fall down to her waist – taking in the scene around her. The bed was a state, as per usual and her draws were all pulled out as though they had been rummaged through. No doubt, Abby had been desperately searching for her cocaine which thank god, she kept hidden on her side of the room. She knew how Demi felt about that shit… It was fucking GROSS. There was only one place that she could have been; her favourite stall in the psychiatric ward. It was almost a fucking shrine to John Parris – vandalism and carvings scribbled across the cubicle walls. Nobody DARED go in there, on the off chance that Abigail came bursting in through the bathroom in an attempt to hide from whichever staff member was on her case – everybody knew that. As well as her creamed canvas, Abigail splashed SECRETS all over the walls – fingerprints of blood which even freaked the cleaners out… That one cubicle was practically a fucking BLOODBATH half the time – but maybe, that was Demetria’s mind being overly dramatic as per usual... There were bloodstains and speeches of hatred, all in the jagged handwriting of her friend.

With the roll of her eyes, the BEAUTY sauntered through hallways until that E E R I E creak of the door hinges screeched – that should have been the WARNING BELL, really; turn away Demi… But instead, she took it for it’s rusty orchestral note that it always had been, pushing it aside and ignoring it. OBVIOUSLY... As soon as her heels hit the tiled floor, the tapping of her toes sounding G H O S T L I E R than they had on the linoleum floor, Demetria let out a sigh as her hazels were immediately drawn to the red barrel, signifying that the door was locked before she gave a light knuckled knock on the stall door. “Abby. I need my fucking shirt. Open up.” But there was nothing… Unbelievable. Scoffing, out of rage at the girl who was probably so fucking HIGH off her face, she couldn’t hear, Demi gave the door a shove this time. “Seriously, you fucking GOTH. Give me back my shirt, Ab. You know I’m cool with you taking shit as long as you ask first…” But still – NOTHING. Not even the droning sound of her sniffling in an attempt to clear her nostrils. It wouldn’t be the first time that Demetria had recovered a fucked up Abigail, who was slumped over the toilet seat – unaware of her own surroundings. As both palms CRASHED against the wooden door, Demetria’s brows furrowed in FURY as she couldn’t get over how fucking entitled her SELFISH roommate acted at times… And Demi was supposed to be the high maintenance one who only cared about herself. Rushing into the next cubicle, smoke practically already blowing out of her ears as a fire brewed up inside of her – the brunette pulled herself onto the ceramic toilet seat – that was dangerously white… The dirt on her shoes TAINTING what was left of that pure white before Demetria had made the decision to look over and yell at her roommate to bring her back around – and then, intently quiz her on why the FUCK she felt the need to steal her shit. “You are un-fucking-believable, Abigail Winston and I swear to god, I’m gonna fucking come over there and KILL you.“

As hazel eyes lifted above the wall, Demetria almost threw herself back down into the cubicle that she was currently standing in – back SLAMMING against the wood, fingertips covering her lips to CONCEAL the bloodcurdling shriek that had lodged itself in her throat... Or was that her heart? The sight that she had subjected herself to was like something out of a horror film – it was DARK, it was twisted but it was something that NOBODY should ever have to look at. But Demi couldn’t just LEAVE it... It literally was a blood bath; Abigail’s skin had been separated and severed so DEEPLY that you could have seen just how many inches the blade had sunken in to her flesh from metres away. Plucking up the courage to take another look over, just to be SURE that what she was seeing was real, the brunette felt the CRASH of a thunderstorm hit her mind; a seaside tsunami swelling up the hazel orbs that GAWKED at the side that her best friend had left her with. Abigail had died ALONE and she had died in vain; there was nobody there supporting her - nobody there to hold her hand and tell her that it would be okay and that the pain would be over soon... There was nobody to COMFORT her and tell her that she would be moving onto a better place. Sure, Abigail was a ROYAL CUNT but nobody deserved that... Nobody deserved for their last moments to be empty and meaningless. Instead, she laid there – cold and A B A N D O N E D.

Clambering over the stall, legs throwing their way over the wall and falling down onto the toilet seat as streams started flowing from her viridescents – Demetria finally let out the SCREAM that had been tugging on her vocal chords, BEGGING to be freed. Grabbing at her lifeless shoulders, sliding into the PUDDLES of blood that her roommate had left behind, Demetria sobbed as she pulled her friend closer to her body... There were NO WORDS that could be used to describe just how mortified she was feeling – just how U S E L E S S she was feeling... Abigail Winston had been one of her FIRST friends; they had been roommates for two fucking years and that had all been ended with a couple of strikes of a blade. Demi no longer cared about her appearance; she didn’t give a FUCK about the pale lines her tears were streaking in her foundation and nor did she care about the panda eyes that her eyeliner was creating – if anything, it was paying homage to her friend... Blood SEEPED through the pure white that she was wearing; stains and constant reminders of Abigail’s life there as a reminder that Demetria couldn’t do a GOD DAMN THING to change her mind or help. The blood that Abigail’s body was still rejecting was leaving it’s mark on her hands; covering Demetria in what seemed to be a BATTLEFIELD of red ink. That’s what friends were for, right? They were there to help each other and to SAVE each other when things got a little tough... At least, that’s what Abby had done for her. Abby had kept her grounded and deflated her fucking ego – she had put Demetria in her place when it was needed, which was a trait that NOBODY else seemed to have. All of that had been thrown away.

Demi hadn’t even prepared herself for what it would be like to stumble into her bedroom – excited to share the latest gossip with Abigail, who would give a remark along the lines of ‘do I look like I give a shit? you know ALL I care about is John and ripping the smile right from Elana’s cheeks’... What was it going to be like waking up alone? With no one there to PISS you off or make you laugh when you felt like crying? Who was going to tell Demetria ‘I told you so’ when a guy had turned out to be a dick? Who was going to go around with her, stirring SHIT up when things got boring? When Abigail Winston took those blades, cutting across the blue sharpie embedded underneath all of those thick layers of skin that she had built – protected under her rebel with a cause shell, she left a void... An empty fucking void. The hole in Demi’s heart was so fucking BIG that she was surprised it was still beating. Her lungs and vocal chords were still very much working and that was what added to the sheer HELL of it. Demetria could hear the crowds around her, SCREAMING in terror at the site as more and more bodies filled the bathroom but when she finally opened her eyes through crystal tinted liquid, ready to AWAKE from her nightmare, she realised that there were no crowds – and that the screaming was coming from her.

#blood tw #self harm tw #suicide tw #c: abigail #RIP ABBY #i'm not crying you are #love

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readingat3amisnormal · 3 years

Text

There is something strangely cathartic about watching these creatures as they dream.

They bundle up together, cold-blooded as they are, in seemingly random piles; some resting their heads on the ground while others drape themselves over their fellow creatures. The occasional somnambulist will rise, tripping over roots and stumbling over moss-encrusted rocks before falling into a pile and joining it without hesitation.

I suppose the most ergonomic word to describe them would be “bulbous”, or perhaps “grotesque”. Both have been suggested to me by friends and colleagues, and neither captures the strange, ethereal grace that clings to these creatures’ features like dew to leaves.

It takes a surprising amount of effort to study these beings, despite- or perhaps because of- their gentle and unassuming nature. Each observation has to be made from a distance of more than fifty feet, with little to no noise, and absolutely no contact is to be initiated under any circumstances.

These measures seem extreme. But once you understand the reasons behind them… well, they’re still pretty extreme. It’s entirely possible that the higher-ups who laid them down for us believe that we are under the influence of some exotic hallucinogen, and that the creatures we’re reporting over the field radio are some very strangely shaped kumquats.

Au contraire, co-workers.

What follows are a few miscellaneous observations I’ve made over the course of the past fortnight or so.

Their habitats aren’t unusual for creatures of their sort. Well, creatures of ‘their’ sort is a gigantic misnomer. These tiny little poofters (I’m not entirely sure what that word means, but I feel as though the shape of it fits) are phylogeny’s worst nightmare. Where on the phylogenetic tree do these beings fit? It feels like they should be a step up from single celled organisms, but… are they, really?

I don’t believe the scientific community was truly prepared for a discovery like this right under our noses. I’m certain that if we woke up tomorrow and found no trace of these creatures, we would just accept it and move on with our lives. It sounds deranged, but I so desperately want them to be real, and I can’t be certain that they are.

I can’t say much about their bodily composition, or their inner workings. I’m a behavioural expert, not a physiological one. Still, I will say this- they don’t appear to share all that much in common with humans and apes. For one, their bodies are composed almost entirely of water vapour.

I stopped there in my notebook. The pen had ran dry, and I’d tried to keep writing for a few seconds longer- so the last few words were simply indentations in the paper. There’s a joke in there somewhere, but I’ll let you, dear reader, figure that one out yourself.

Continuing where I left off.

There’s no research so into how they hold their bodies together, or if they have a circulatory system, or a digestive or a nervous system, or any information about how large their brains are, or where they get their energy from-

There’s quite a lot we don’t know, if we’re honest. There are a few reasons for this. One, in order to figure all these things out we’d have to dissect one of them. And even if we were given the go ahead from big brother over at HQ… I don’t think anybody’s got the heart, honestly. Especially given how they look.

I’ve only just noticed that I’ve come all this way without describing their appearance. Suppose it’s as good a place as any.

They look like us, to start with.

Chalk white with bits of grey rolling about inside their torsos like miniature thunderstorms playing pong; legs and arms that don’t appear to have any joints in them; gigantic eyes, hardly any noses, mouths that seem unable to form any shape except an ‘o’ of fascination- the works. It’s uncanny.

Granted, their features are only vaguely humanoid. However, please consider that these appear to be cloud people. Excuse my unprofessionalism.

Regardless, it should be noted that this resemblance isn’t simply a superfluous detail- it is actively influencing how we’re interacting with them.

One of my colleagues believes he’s found a way to identify these creatures through the changing grey smudges on their bodies. While this is fascinating, he’s taken the opportunity to give each one a nice, human name. And he’s grouped them into families. Despite the fact that we’re pretty sure these creatures don’t reproduce sexually. His justification? They’re cute!

Now, I can’t pretend to not be affected by this- though it is in a decidedly different way. While most of my colleagues here on site believe that these creatures are not intelligent -why would they? They’re displaying no signs of it- I choose to disagree. I believe these creatures show no signs of intelligence because they’re still leaning.

What’s that? It sounds like I’ve finally lost it? Well, hear me out before you put me in the padded cell.

From the moment they wake to the moment they fall asleep at the end of the day, they appear to do nothing except wander around, taking in the sights. And this isn’t just ordinary pack animal behaviour, this is properly deliberate. They’re absorbing, as opposed to simply seeing.

Now, to the average layperson (and to most experts), these seem like the ramblings of somebody who’s been sleeping in the foliage for the past six months and hasn’t seen a roll of toilet paper in twice that time. But frankly, they haven’t seen what I’ve seen.

Mainly because I lost a bet and had to take up residence in the watchtower last month. But I wear that scar with pride!

I find myself recalling one incident in particular I had the strange pleasure of observing; a creature’s first encounter with another living being.

It was maybe late afternoon. The sun had begun its gradual descent towards the treetops but wasn’t so far gone as to coat the world with the warm orange glow characteristic of dusk. A few of the creatures had broken off from the main pack and were loosely congregated around a tiny pool with a trickle of water falling into it from above.

As two of them reclined near the top of a rock formation and another stared directly into the sun, one of the creatures leant over to stare into the pool, mouth- as always- shaped into an ‘o’ of fascination. It could see something I couldn’t from where I was sitting.

As I watched, a school of fish so small and vibrant they looked like rose petals on the water darted across the surface of the pond. The creature closest to the pond took a step back, and for a second I worried it would wobble and fall in. Instead, it bowed down onto one knee so as to see the fish better.

It dipped a hand into the water, ripples cascading out and driving the fish into the depths. It paused, and I could almost see the gears turning…

It removed its hand and waited patiently. In just under a minute, the fish had resurfaced. It looked up at the other creatures, mouth imitating an oddly deformed grin. They came over, and as another one of the creatures reached its hand out to disturb the surface, the first stopped him with a gentle touch.

Currently, it is a point of contention among myself and my colleagues whether they are simply stuck with the one expression, or if they are so endlessly fascinated with the world around them that they just look like that all the time.

These creatures aren’t perfect. But we can give them a chance.

Interestingly, we don’t really have a name for them yet. Firstly because, as I mentioned before, they are a phylogenetic nightmare, but also because… what would we name them?

Generally, the names we award (that feels like the wrong word) species are supposed to encapsulate what the species is etymologically. Homo antecessor- pioneer man. Homo habilis- handy man. Homo sapien- wise man. Each of these names reflects what we know about our ancestors. However, that doesn’t really work for these creatures. We haven’t been observing them for all that long, and it’s not like we can dig up fossils. They dissolve into nothing when they die.

Oh, did I mention that? They have a lifespan of about a month, and at the end of it they just evaporate. Really freaked out a new hire who’d just arrived last week.

But I digress. I’ve already had three colleagues simply suggest “cloud people” as an appropriate name. Really? And another colleague suggested “residuique consumpti nubes” after a visit to a town that had Wi-Fi. Utterly abysmal.

Personally, I feel like they should have a name that truly captures their essence, their odd grace, their desire to learn… and, of course, their resemblance to us.

‘Homo animus’ is my suggestion. I’m certain that there’s a better way to word it, especially since I can’t exactly whip out my phone and google some synonyms for ‘smart’ in Latin. Still, if my memory serves me right, this loosely translates to ‘human mind’. Isn’t that perfect?

Well, not really. I still feel as though I haven’t captured their true essence. It’s incredibly difficult to quantify. Could you give a person a name so perfect, so true that it would make you understand everything about them? Ah, well. Names won’t ever be perfect. I’m certain there’s more to humans than just being wise, after all.

Besides, perhaps we aren’t supposed to understand these creatures. Perhaps we are simply to observe as they live and they learn, completely and utterly free until they slip back into the infinite expanse on the other side of the clouds.

#this one's an oldie but a goldie #well goldie's a bit excessive #but i like it #i'm actually doing some spring cleaning of my gdrive folder which is why there are so many posts

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leroyparker · 7 years

Text

we were here

So months and months ago, I was stuck in Dublin airport after my flight was delayed, delayed some more, and then cancelled. @elevenknope, being the wonderful soul she is, inspired me to write a stoncy fic about it. I never finished it (because I suck) but then yesterday, Val got stuck in an airport, and it only seem right to finish it for her.

Jonathan’s leg was shaking incessantly, bouncing up and down at a rapid pace. He pressed his hand to his knee, trying to get it to still, but it stubbornly persisted.

His entire body was tense, and he felt like an elastic band about to snap. The seat was too small, too stiff, and there wasn’t enough damn leg room for him to relax. He stared at the seat back in front of him, the hum of the plane only serving to put him more on edge.

He shouldn’t have agreed to this. He didn’t know how he’d let his mom convince him that being stuck in a small metal container moving at a hundred miles per hour was worth attending a stupid photography workshop.

It’s not stupid, it’s a big deal, his mother’s voice rang out in his head.

He had sleeping pills that would knock him out easily, but his first flight was only 2 hours long. There was no way they wouldn’t keep him sleeping through all of that, and the only thing worse than having to fly was flying somewhere he didn’t want to go. So while he saved the pills for part two of the trip, he’d have to get through this part on his own.

There were people all around him, trapping him in. He thought the window would be a good idea, being able to see exactly what was going on outside, but now it felt like he was suffocating. He was alone in his row so far, but soon enough there wouldn’t be. What if he needed to run? What if he needed to get the hell out and he couldn’t?

He stared towards the front of the plane, wondering if it was too late to make a run for it. He’d checked his bag… he’d be out of some valuable things for a while, but he could live without it.

He was currently sorting through how mad his mother would be if he just left now when a voice interrupted his internal debate.

“Hey there,” a kind voice spoke up from above him. He looked up, eyes landing a couple that appeared to be about his age. The woman who had spoken to him smiled. “I think we’re seat buddies today.”

Jonathan blinked at her. His flying anxiety was suddenly gone, replaced with a new sort of social anxiety that he only got around beautiful people. She tilted her head at him, still smiling despite the crease on her forehead. He glanced down, spotting his black camera bag on the seat.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” he scrambled to remove it, feeling mortified. The woman just let out a small chuckle, setting her bag on the floor and kicking it under the seat before sitting. “No rush,” she said happily.

He tried not to watch them openly as they got situated, but he always had a tendency to people-watch. They were dressed nice but casual, plenty comfortable for a flight this long.

They really were beautiful, but not in some New York supermodel sort of way. It was a quiet beauty, small town almost. It was the kind of thing he was comfortable with, and he wished he knew how to say that without sounding creepy.

The couple began to talk quietly to each other and Jonathan didn’t listen in, already drowning in his own thoughts again. Every inch of his body still wanted to get the fuck off that plane.

The plane suddenly jerked, beginning to move in reverse towards the runway, and Jonathan flinched wildly at the movement before he realized what was happening.

“Not a frequent flyer, huh?” The man in his row asked with a grin, clearly sensing Jonathan’s anxiety.

“Um, no,” Jonathan muttered back. “I’ve never actually been on a plane before.”

“No way, seriously?” He asked, sounding surprised. “How do you get anywhere?”

Jonathan fixed him with a look, trying not to be offended. “I drive.”

“Seems easier to fly,” he mused, and Jonathan couldn’t help but glare.

“Seems cheaper to drive,” he shot back without missing a beat, and the man raised his eyebrows, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

“Steve shut up, you’re being an ass,” the woman quipped at her-- boyfriend? Husband? Jonathan wasn’t quite sure. She turned to Jonathan, smiling slightly. “Sorry. He’s been flying since he was a kid, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have manners.”

She stressed the last word with raised eyebrows, and the man-- Steve-- grinned at her. “Sorry,” Steve apologized, sounding light-hearted but genuine nonetheless.

Jonathan shrugged. He hadn’t really been bothered by the exchange-- he was used to privileged people not understanding money and the concept of, well, not having it.

“I’m Nancy, by the way,” the woman introduced herself. “This is Steve.”

Jonathan smiled at her politely and nodded. “I’m Jonathan.”

“Why the trip to Minneapolis, Jonathan?” Steve asked from Nancy’s other side. He let Jonathan’s name roll of his tongue like a drawl, like it was some rare name instead of what it actually was.

“Oh. Well I’m going to Seattle, actually, I’ve just got a layover in Minneapolis,” he explained awkwardly, wondering if they actually cared. To his surprise, they both brightened at that.

“No way!” Steve threw out. “Same here!”

Nancy smiled and nodded to confirm. Jonathan just blinked, not completely sure why it would matter. He was sure a lot of people here were doing the same thing, after all.

“What’s in Seattle, then?” Nancy asked curiously.

“Um, just some workshop thing,” Jonathan stammered shortly. His eyes were on flight attendants who were ushering the last few people into their seats. “For photography.”

“All the way to Seattle for a workshop?” Steve asked, incredulity in his voice. “You must be some bigshot, huh?”

Jonathan blinked at that, tearing his eyes away from the smiling women up front. He looked at Steve and Nancy, who were smiling as they waited for a response. “Huh? No, no, definitely not. It’s not a big deal.”

“And yet you’re taking your first cross-country flight for it,” Nancy pointed out, a smile playing on her lips.

Jonathan floundered, having nothing to say to that. He didn’t know how to explain to them that he was just lucky that he’d been picked to attend, talent had nothing to do with it. His mom hadn’t believed him-- he somehow doubted they would either.

“Why are you heading out there?” He said instead, ready to change the subject.

“Vacation,” Steve said happily. He leaned back and stretched his legs out, despite the fact that he didn’t really fit. It made sense why he’d chosen the aisle seat, what with his long legs.

“Family,” Nancy countered, looking at Steve firmly. “My cousin lives up there, she just had a baby.”

Jonathan nodded, focusing on their story instead of the fact that the plane was currently speeding down the runway and at any moment they’d be in the air.

“It’s just an excuse though,” Steve pointed out. “I mean, no offense to Patty, but I’m not flying to Seattle to see her baby. I’m going to Seattle to go to Seattle. Your words, not mine.”

Nancy elbowed him in the side, making Jonathan chuckle in surprise. She blushed slightly, looking sheepish. “Alright, maybe it’s a vacation. But I’ve never been, and Steve’s been twice. It’s only fair.”

It was raining. No, scratch that, it was pouring, and Jonathan was in the fucking sky. They were only a few minutes away from the airport for his layover, but suddenly Jonathan couldn’t imagine them making it.

“I’m gonna die in fucking Minnesota,” Jonathan muttered under his breath.

Steve and Nancy-- who were lovely people, by the way, why the fuck did they have to die on this plane too?-- both looked at him in concern.

“Hey, it’s fine, Jonathan,” Nancy assured him. “We’re almost there anyway. Planes fly in the rain all the time.”

“Yeah, you know, once when I was nine, I could stuck in this thunderstorm over the bay. That was way worse than this,” Steve threw in. Jonathan looked at him in disbelief, and Steve looked a bit ashamed, like he realized maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

“Get ready for just a bit of turbulence folks. It shouldn’t last long and we’re starting our descent to Minneapolis now,” the pilot’s voice rang out overhead, making Jonathan’s eyes widen.

“Oh fuck,” Jonathan whispered as the first turbulence hit, making the plane jump and shudder. He held onto the armrests for dear life, squeezing his eyes shut. Nobody else seemed to be freaking out like he was, but he didn’t see how anyone could be calm about this.

Something warm weighed down on Jonathan’s hand causing a small spark of relief to ignite in Jonathan’s chest. Without opening his eyes, he let go of his death grip on the armrest and turned his hand over, gripping onto the new presence tightly. To his surprise, he felt fingers lace in between his, holding tight.

It felt like it would never end. There were more shudders and dips and then a loud noise that Jonathan was sure was just death itself. Then a gentle voice spoke up again.

“Hey Jonathan,” Nancy said beside him. “It’s over.”

Jonathan took a breath, opening his eyes in surprise. Nancy was smiling kindly at him, and he blinked, stunned by her. His eyes flickered down and his heart jumped when he saw their hands interlaced. Oh.

“Oh,” Jonathan said, pulling his hand away. It was sweaty, and he wiped it on his shirt quickly. That wasn’t embarrassing at all. “Sorry. I don’t… like flying.”

“No shit,” Steve said from the aisle seat, but when Jonathan looked at him, there was a bit of concern in his eye. “At least it’s over now, right?”

Jonathan nodded, grabbing his bag as he saw passengers begin to make their way to the exit. He didn’t speak anymore, heart still pounding from the leftover anxiety. He rarely had anxiety attacks like this, and he was glad. He didn’t feel like he’d be able to take many of them.

They were quiet as they exited the plane and made their way back to the gate. When they were all outside, Jonathan managed to take a deep breath.

Steve was watching him carefully, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “You need a drink,” he said decisively after a second. “We all need a drink.”

Jonathan blinked, readjusting his grip on his bag as he looked between them. He expected Nancy to admonish for the idea, but she was simply nodded in agreement.

“What about our flight--” he started, though he wasn’t sure why.

“This weather isn’t going to get better for a while. No way that flight’s gonna leave on time,” Steve dismissed.

Nancy smiled at him, a light in her eyes that he made him somewhat nervous. “Trust us,” she insisted, pulling him gently by the hand. Steve linked his arm through Jonathan’s, and he let them drag them away.

“One, two, three--” Steve counted before bringing the glass to his mouth and slamming it back, Nancy and Jonathan copying obediently. They all made equal noises of disgust as the tequila slid down their throats, but they were laughing all the same.

Jonathan really wasn’t sure how he’d been roped into doing shots with strangers in an airport bar, but he wasn’t complaining. Besides, Steve and Nancy had stopped feeling like strangers about two hours ago.

He’d learned more about them in that afternoon than he’d learned about most of his peers and acquaintances in four years. He learned they were both from Hawkins, a crazy coincidence since he himself had grown up not an hour away in Indianapolis. They had gone to school together since they were kids, and been dating since high school. They’d gotten engaged last summer, but were waiting until Nancy got through grad school to actually tie the knot. Steve had dropped out of college after his second semester, but was considering going back to get a degree in education. Nancy had two younger siblings-- Mike and Holly-- who she talked about so much that Jonathan felt like he knew the kids. When he’d asked Steve about his family, he’d just mentioned that he was an only child before changing the subject. Steve was a baseball fan, his favorite team being the St. Louis Cardinals, and he’d looked close to hitting Jonathan when he’d lied about preferring the Cubs.

The weird thing was, it wasn’t just the couple doing all the talking. He talked about his mom and his brother, mentioning briefly the terrible scare they’d had when he’d disappeared all those years ago. He told them about his photography, and how he’d gotten into it. He told them the truth about the workshop and how he’d been selected out of his entire class to attend, and how nervous he was for it. They’d been so excited about that, congratulating him excessively, like they were proud of him despite having only known him for a few hours.

Steve had been right about the flight. There had been an announcement an hour ago explaining that the flight to Seattle was one of many delayed flights that wouldn’t take off until the storm had passed. According to local weather channels, before the night was over.

Steve flung an arm over Jonathan’s shoulders and pulled him close, laughing brightly. Jonathan smiled bashfully at the gesture, revelling in the embrace. He hadn’t felt this comfortable with anyone new in a while. He wondered how much of that was the alcohol.

“Johnny boy, you may just end up outdrinking Nance, which is an accomplishment, let me tell you,” Steve teased, and Nancy grinned at him, her eyes bright.

“You don’t seem drunk,” Jonathan shot back.

“I don’t get drunk. I’ve got that high school jock endurance thing going for me. Never been hungover either.” Steve jested with a wink, and Nancy giggled from his other side.

“Right. So the morning after our engagement party, you were…” she faded off, eyebrows raised challengingly.

“Sick with the flu,” Steve finished confidently. Jonathan snorted to himself, and Steve shot him a betrayed look. “I was! I felt off the whole night, and then, sure enough, I was sick in the morning.”

“You felt off,” Nancy emphasised with air quotes, “because you were drunk. Give it up, Steve, you’re not a teenager anymore.”

Steve gasped dramatically and pulled Nancy to his chest, though he didn’t let go of his hold on Jonathan. He watched as the couple smiled at each other and kissed chastely. He knew he should probably feel awkward, being this close to a couple showing affection, but he could only feel at ease.

“One more round?” Steve asked happily when he looked away from Nancy, already flagging down the waiter. Nancy and and Jonathan groaned in unison, but didn’t protest anymore.

The night arrived soon enough. The storm was still beating down heavily with no signs of stopping, and it’d been announced that no flights would take off until the morning.

The crowds died down, and the noise levels dropped as left families lingered and the only people running around were tired businessmen. The restaurants closed one by one, and soon enough it felt like a place that you Weren’t Supposed to Be.

Jonathan didn’t care. He was sandwiched in between Steve and Nancy as they sat in a row of seats overlooking the runway. He was tired from the alcohol and food that he’d consumed earlier. He hadn’t intended on paying for airport food, but Steve had bought it before he’d realized what was happening. He supposed the alcohol had helped with that.

“It’s so pretty,” Jonathan breathed out. He didn’t use that word much, never having many things in his life that fell into the category, but it was the only word for that view. It was still raining hard, no planes taking off, but it didn’t matter. The lights flickered along the roads like reflections of stars, and he stared at them for a long time.

“Yeah,” Nancy agreed from his right. She gave a long sigh with faded into a yawn quickly.

Jonathan bent down and found his camera with ease, slipping the strap around his neck and removing the lens cap. He stood up, crossing closer to the window, peering through the viewfinder as he struggled to get a shot of the outdoors.

“The photographer in action, huh?” Steve drawled, his voice low with exhaustion. Jonathan didn’t turn around. “Oops, shouldn’t disturb him in his natural habitat.”

Jonathan couldn’t help but snort at that and through a look over his shoulder. Steve and Nancy were both watching him peacefully, small smiles on their faces like they were trying to figure him out. It was odd, but he liked it. He turned back to the window and snapped a few shots as he listened to the conversation behind him.

“Man, I’m tired,” Steve sighed. “Fuck, why is it so cold in here? Nance, don’t you have a blanket or something?”

He heard Nancy grumble something in reply and then start to rifle through her bag.

Jonathan allowed himself to stare out at the runway in a daze for a while longer. It really was beautiful. He still hated airplanes… but he got the appeal of this place.

Airports were in between places for in between people. He liked the idea of being one of them.

Time didn’t seem to pass the same in airports, which was strange, seeing as the whole system relied upon time. But there was something off about it-- it lingered, then passed all too quickly, like it was just trying to leave you behind. It felt like these last few hours were some sort of bonus time in his life-- you weren’t supposed to hang around in airports, and yet here he was. It felt like he was cheating the system somehow.

“I wanna stay in this airport forever,” Jonathan said. He wasn’t sure why he said it out loud, but he felt like he wanted to hear it.

There was a pause.

“Living your whole life in an airport isn’t a viable option for avoiding flying,” Nancy teased gently from behind him, and he finally turned around to look at them.

She’d moved over to sit next to Steve as they shared a nice-sized knit blanket that Jonathan had no idea how she managed to fit into her bag. Steve was breathing slowly like he was on the cusp of sleep, and Nancy didn’t look much better as she leaned tiredly against Steve. She smiled at him though, and he smiled back.

“Maybe not,” he replied, but her eyes had already slipped closed.

Jonathan waited a moment longer before raising the camera to his eye and focusing on the pair of them, taking care to capture the airport around them as well. He knew he should’ve asked permission, but he didn’t want to risk it. He knew this was something he needed to remember.

When he lowered the camera, satisfied with the shot, and looked up, he was surprised to see Steve looking at him gently. He wondered if he should apologize, but Steve just smirked at him.

“You’re gonna freeze to death over there,” he mumbled. “Come on, get some sleep.”

Steve nodded to the seat beside him and Jonathan didn’t argue. The alcohol had drifted to the back of his mind, creating a layer of exhaustion, and he didn’t fight it. He sat down beside Steve, smiling as the other man helped push the blanket towards him. He closed his eyes, surprised at how quickly sleep found him.

“This is for passengers on delayed United Airlines flight 1295 to Seattle. The plane will be departing at 7:45, and will begin boarding at 7:20 at Gate 7. Please arrive at the gate with plenty of time. Thank you.”

Jonathan blinked his eyes open at the announcement, brain clicking on at the mention of his flight number. He blinked the blurriness out of his eyes and sat up a bit straighter, blinking down at the blanket that fell to his lap. After recognizing the pattern, he glanced to his side to see Steve, still fast asleep with his head tilted back. Nancy was on his other side, her head leaning against her fiance’s arm as she breathed slowly.

Jonathan couldn’t help but smile at them both. He felt a slight headache starting to creep into his temples, no doubt from all the drinking, but he didn’t let himself think about it. He pushed the blanket off of him carefully and glanced down at his watch. 6:40. He had time.

After double checking he had some cash in his pocket, he left quietly for the nearest coffee shop. He winced at the prices, but also reminded himself on how much Steve and Nancy had dropped last night for drinks and dinner. He successfully procured three coffees-- black, with some cream and sugar packets tucked away in case-- and three muffins of different kinds, balancing them carefully as he made his way back to the seats.

Nancy was awake when he returned, frowning thoughtfully until her eyes landed on him. She brightened, that small intimate smile of hers creeping back onto her face.

“Hey,” she greeted as he sat on her other side, not wanting to disturb Steve.

“Good morning,” he offered quietly. He held out a coffee to her and the small bag of cream and sweeteners, and she took it gratefully.

“Thank you,” she said pleasantly, grabbing a couple of cream containers to dump in her coffee before taking a sip. She smiled at him as she swallowed. “How’d you sleep?”

Jonathan opened his mouth, ready to reply with his normal fine, but he paused. For sleeping in a crappy airport seat practically freezing his ass off, he had slept surprisingly…

“Good,” he said with a small smile. He gave a small laugh. “I think the alcohol helped.”

Nancy grinned and took another sip of coffee. “Aren’t you glad you came with us yesterday?”

Jonathan didn’t bother lying. “Yeah, I am.”

They drank their coffee side by side, not speaking too much. It didn’t feel like they needed to.

Steve woke up eventually, announcing his presence with a large yawn and a full-body stretch like he was a cat. He blinked over at them, eyes flickering between them.

Jonathan practically held his breath, waiting for the awkwardness to sink in. He wondered if they wished he’d left, like they weren’t sure what he was still doing there. He wasn’t quite sure himself.

But they didn’t suggest anything close to that. Steve finally smiled, sleep quickly vanishing from his features. He gave a sound of delight when he spotted the muffins, reaching for them happily and throwing Jonathan a happy look. He slipped onto the floor to get to the coffee, leaning against Nancy’s legs as he fixed his coffee.

“Jonathan, you’re a lifesaver,” Steve said happily as he tore off a piece of the cranberry muffin.

They ate breakfast peacefully. They were all clearly still tired from the night before, but none of them were close to grumpy, though Jonathan suspected Nancy had as much of a headache as he did.

At 7:15 they were done eating and began making their way to their new gate. Conversation never dipped between them, and it made Jonathan’s heart hurt. He’d never managed to connect to people like this. Why did it have to be now, when they were getting ready to board a flight and most likely never see each other again?

Jonathan didn’t even remember boarding the plane, a stark difference from the hyperawareness he’d felt getting on the first one. It was different when he wasn’t on his own.

They weren’t sitting together again, which made sense, because that would have to be some crazy coincidence. They reached Jonathan’s seat first, and suddenly their conversation about music died.

“This is me,” Jonathan said pathetically, not sure why he bothered. It felt weird saying goodbye when they’d spend the next two hours on a plane together, but he felt like it needed saying.

They smiled at him. “Have a good flight,” Nancy said, and before he knew it was was pressing a kiss to his cheek. He blushed immediately, eyes flickering to Steve, but the man was still smiling.

“You too,” he stammered after a second of silence.

“Don’t forget to take those sleeping pills, yeah?” Steve reminded him. “Take them now so they kick in in time.”

Jonathan gave an awkward smile but nodded. “Yeah, um… thanks.”

“Scream if you need us,” Nancy teased, winking at him happily, making him snort in amusement. They both grinned at him and raised their hands in farewell before turning to make room for the other passengers.

Jonathan stood in front of his seat watching them continue to move back in the plane before an older woman beside him coughed pointedly and looked at her seat. He scrambled to his window seat and sat down so she could join him, Steve and Nancy out of sight.

He looked down at the pills in his hand, pulling them out of the small bag and throwing them back dry. He focused on the memory of Nancy’s hand on his and their concerned looks and shut his eyes, willing his anxiety away.

“Sir?” Jonathan blinked slowly, looking around. There was a flight attendant in the aisle, her hand resting on his shoulder as she frowned down at him. “Sir, the plane’s landed, it’s time to go.”

Jonathan sat up and wiped at his face in confusion. He realized with embarrassment that he was one of the only people left on the plane. “Sorry,” he murmured, his voice gruff with sleep.

The flight attendant smiled patiently at him. “That’s alright. Oh, and your friends asked me to give you this. They didn’t want to wake up you up, but they seemed to be in a hurry.”

She handed him a folded piece of paper which he took unsurely. He felt a bit sick at the thought of Steve and Nancy.

In case you get bored in Seattle-- we’re staying at the Marriott downtown. Ask for Steve Harrington. x

#for val #stoncy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #emma writes #stranger things

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bakugou-ou · 7 years

Text

雷 -Denki Kaminari x Reader-

Friendly neighborhood admin was freaking out as a result of a massive thunderstorm passing right over her house, so she wrote indulgent Kaminari stuff. Why am I talking about myself in the third person? The world may never know, but it just happened. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little thing I did to make myself feel better.

note: the kanji in the title is the kanji for thunder, read as Kaminari; however, Kaminari’s last name is written 上鳴 and doesn’t actually mean thunder despite being read the same way as 雷, it uses the kanji for up/above and chirping/ringing/sound, which is a reference to thunder and how it comes from above and booms.

“Are you okay?”

You heard a familiar voice as you laid in your bed under the covers; it was the middle of a thunderstorm, something you weren’t overly fond of, and you had taken refuge in your bed, hiding from the storm outside. It was passing right overhead, loud cracks of thunder shaking the building, bright flashes of lightning illuminating the room so thoroughly that even under a thick duvet it was easy to see. Why you were scared, you didn’t know, it just had always been that way. Maybe when you were small, you had enjoyed thunderstorms, you could have sworn you did at some point, but now they were unpleasant, especially when they seemed to be directly overhead like this particular storm.

The electricity in the dormitory had been knocked out by the storm, even the backup generators were out of commission due to the storm, despite being disconnected from the main grid. That alone was disconcerting, as the backup generators were supposed to keep the building powered on and protected in the event of a storm like this. At least it wasn’t an earthquake, or a tsunami, just an obnoxious thunderstorm. The building shook again, and you curled up tighter under the covers, a small noise of discontent escaping you as you buried your face in your mattress.

“I didn’t know you were scared of thunderstorms, ____.”

The last think you needed was Kaminari, the human embodiment of thunderstorms, seeing you like that. Of course he’d be fine right now, his quirk was essentially what was happening outside, he was able to discharge electricity from himself, like a Pikachu… Or a thunderstorm. He sounded so relaxed, it irked you. It was fine for him to be calm during a thunderstorm, of course it was, but you were having a bad time and didn’t need him teasing you for being scared.

Except, he wasn’t teasing you.

You felt your bed give a bit under the pressure of him getting onto it with you, and you wondered what exactly his plan was. Kaminari was always trying to be smooth with you, you doubted that this was an exception to that rule; still, it was comforting to have someone there, even if it was Kaminari of all people. You were friends, you got on well, it was just that he enjoyed teasing you, and flirting with you, and you didn’t need that sort of thing right now. You hoped he wouldn’t, and that if he would that he’d take the cue and leave you alone, better off alone than with someone making fun of your stupid fear.

“This one’s pretty bad, so I can’t really blame you for hiding like that,” He said, pulling the covers up and peeking into your makeshift nest; he paused as large flash of lightning came through the window, followed a second later by booming thunder that shook the building, a direct hit, “Jeez, I wonder how long this is gonna last…”

Kaminari, without asking for your permission first, pulled the blanket off you enough that he could slip in under and join you in your little haven, pulling the blankets back over the two of you and settling in as you continued to hide your face on the mattress. You had half a mind to object to him being under the covers with you, but another crack of thunder shook the building again and you found yourself moving closer to him without meaning to. Without missing a beat, Kaminari moved himself closer to you and began to rub your back in small, circular motions, propping himself up on his other elbow and looking at you, taking in the way you looked whenever the lightning illuminated the space under the blankets where the two of you were currently residing.

“Y’know, when I was a little kid, I used to be really freaked out by thunderstorms, too,” Kaminari told you as you stayed tense under his touch, “I hated how loud they were, and I didn’t like when they were strong enough to knock the power out like this one, which happened way too often at my place. But, when my quirk manifested, it was suddenly gone, the fear I had. I was just as powerful as an actual thunderstorm! I mean, I’m not stupid enough to go outside during one, that’s just asking to get messed up, but I like watching them. I get how they can scare people, though, especially when you know that sometimes people die during them… But we’re gonna be fine! It’s out there, we’re in here, the building is well reinforced. The electricity may have been knocked out, but it’s okay since nothing’s gonna short in here.”

“Not even you?” You teased, feeling a little better with him there, more than you wanted to admit.

“We’re still talking, aren’t we?” He responded, chuckling, “Sometimes I like to try and mimic the lightning outside with my quirk, but that’d probably freak you out right now, wouldn’t it?” You nodded. “Don’t worry, I won’t do it. But, I will stay here and keep you company.”

“Thank you, Kaminari.” You said quietly.

“No problem~!” Kaminari chirped, pulling you even closer, right up against him, “Besides, this is the perfect excuse to get in your bed, which I’ve been dying to do for ages now.”

You groaned at his flirtation, though you knew it was mostly a jest in that moment. You gently pushed him away, your hand putting pressure on his chest as you feigned trying to escape; you didn’t mind, this was nice, you wanted to be there with him now that he was there, and it was comforting for him to be his usual self with you even under that kind of circumstance.

“You know you love me,” Kaminari teased, laughing but slacking his hold on you in case you really did want to move away from him, “You feeling any better?”

“Just a bit…” You mumbled, moving closer to him and resting your forehead against his chest, curling up against him, “You’re an idiot, I hate you.”

“Oh, I can feel how much you hate me.” Kaminari snickered as you wrapped one of your arms around him, holding onto the fabric of his shirt just a bit and nuzzling into him, “You know, if you wanted to cuddle, you could have just told me. I’d have been here a lot quicker.”

“Shut up, idiot…” You grumbled, enjoying his warmth all too much; he smelled nice, too, was he wearing cologne? Or had he always smelled like that?

The storm wasn’t relenting, it kept shaking the building and sending bright light through the window, but it wasn’t as terrifying now, not with you bundled up under heavy blankets with your friend. Your flirtatious, irritatingly charming friend, who was doing his best to make sure you felt okay under circumstances that were clearly unpleasant for you. Kaminari was a good guy, he really was, he didn’t get enough credit for it. The occasional horrifying crack of thunder happened, ones that were louder and more intense than the rest of them, driving you to cling just a bit more tightly to Kaminari each time they happened, but he was more than happy with it, enjoying the contact.

He adored you, he really did want to date you, but he figured you were like everyone else he ever tried to flirt with, you wouldn’t take him seriously if he told you that he was serious. The fact that you seemed to be comforted by his presence was enough to satisfy him, though. This wasn’t about him, it was about you right now. The longer the storm dragged on, the more he wanted to say something, to do more, like play with your hair, or kiss you. But that wasn’t the right thing to do, you guys were just friends, you were just holding onto him like that because you were scared of what was outside, not because you liked him back.

It felt too good to be with him like this, did you always find him that enjoyable to be around? Would you have wanted anyone else to comfort you in that moment? The longer you stayed like that, the more it dawned on you that no, you wouldn’t have wanted anyone else there with you, you liked that it was him, everything about it. Oh, man, you were in deep and hadn’t even realized it. Or, maybe you had, and you had just pushed it off, not wanting to admit it to yourself, or to him, he’d be smug if he knew, wouldn’t he? He’d probably grin and say of course you like me!

Somehow, you began to relax, feeling the weight of your anxiety lift and instead be replaced with a much gentler sort of weight, the weight of exhaustion. You were tired, you needed to sleep, freaking out about the storm had taken a considerable amount of your energy from you. Kaminari was so warm, soft, comforting, it wasn’t hard for you to begin to slip into a well-needed slumber. As you began to fade, your grip on his shirt loosened, you took deeper, slower breaths, and you even moved one of your legs between his to be closer to him, to have more contact between the two of you. He didn’t mind in the slightest, he had always wanted that sort of thing and now he was actually getting it, getting to cuddle with you in your bed, you moving to make more contact on your own, without him asking. He moved the arm he’d been reclining on under your pillow and rested his head on it, watching you as you fell asleep completely. You were too cute, who allowed that? It should have been illegal for someone to be as cute as you were to him.

He thought you were completely asleep before you really were, jumping the gun a bit and leaning down to kiss your forehead. When your eyes opened just the slightest bit, he was mortified, he really thought you were out already.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

You tilted your head up and put your lips on his to shut him up, enjoying the surprised look on his face as you held the kiss. At first, his eyes widened, and he made a muffled exclamation of shock, but as he realized what happened, his cheeks began to flush, you saw it under the next flash of lightning, and then his expression began to relax, and he kissed you back, his eyes slowly closing as he tried to get you to do it again. And you did, you kissed him again, and he smiled just a bit into that kiss, a happy little hum coming from him as he made sure your bodies were as close as they could be without taking your clothes off.

Kaminari pulled away, just for a moment, “So, does this mean we’re a thing now?”

You laughed and smiled, enjoying the way he sounded so unsure, his usual confidence not present in that moment despite the fact that you’d just been kissing each other, “You have to ask?” You teased,

He felt his heart thumping excitedly in his chest, and he wondered if you could feel it, too, how excited he was that he was finally getting to be with you. Who knew all it’d take was a thunderstorm? He kissed you one last time and then sighed; he was tired himself, “Goodnight, Babe.”

Kaminari had been fond of thunderstorms since he was four years old, he hoped that maybe now you would be, too.

#not a request #scenario #Denki Kaminari #Kaminari Denki #bnha #mha #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #idk what to even tag this as but whatever here it is #the storm finally stopped right as I'm posting this so that's nice #I wish I wrote more for dankmemes he's such a good guy I adore the heck outta him #tfw you're too freaked out to add details to your story #it's hard to focus on writing when you're having 50 panic attacks thinking your house is gonna fall apart around you from thunder lmao

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inadarkdarkroom · 7 years

Text

It Was Melissa

I currently live in Houston but grew up about a mile outside of a small, coal mining town in north central West Virginia. According to the most recent Census our population is about 375 people - meaning, everybody knows everybody, including the people who lived outside of the main street-is kind of area. The house where I grew up sits on a hill, just above a neighboring farmhouse and the road, Route 218, winds from town past my house, following a creek most of the way. The neighbors in the farmhouse had two kids and their daughter Melissa was one year younger than me. Since the road didn’t have sidewalks (meaning you had to have your parents drive you to your friend’s homes) we played together a lot growing up. Melissa was so kind and a great friend to have when there weren’t many around.

I came home for the summer after my Freshman year of college, and Melissa was getting ready for high school graduation in about a week. She worked evenings and weekends at the gas station/convenience store in town. I remember that week well because we had horrible thunderstorms almost every day with bad winds, torrential rains, and thus, lots of downed trees. One day while my parents were at work, my sister and I drove into town to get some milk and bread from the store where Melissa worked. We made small talk and Melissa told us how she couldn’t wait to get off work and go home. “I’ve had a crappy schedule all week,” she said. “I haven’t hardly seen my family in days, and I just can’t wait to get home today to see them all.”

Later that afternoon, my sister and I were doing stupid things on our dial up internet, when it went down. We weren’t super surprised since there had been another round of bad thunderstorms that afternoon and men had been removing precarious trees just about 100 yards or so from Melissa’s driveway. Traffic started backing up in front of our house and we saw a family friend stuck down by the road so we went to see if she knew what was up. There had been a horrible accident - while the men were clearing trees, they paused work to let some traffic through. Something snapped and a tree fell on a car, crushing the car and the driver. It was Melissa.

It was the most tragic thing, and I don’t have any better way to describe it. My little sister and I were horrified. All she wanted was to go home and see her family, and with less than a football field’s distance to go, she was killed. To make it even worse, her older brother was in the car right behind her and saw the whole thing.

About 6 months later I came home to visit for Thanksgiving. It was midday and my sister and I had driven into town to visit the kids we nannied for during the summers, and we were on our way back out of town to our house. I was driving, and as you leave town, you go up and then down a hill. As I mentioned, there are no sidewalks - just a narrow, two-lane country road with a creek to the left and hills to the right. People will sometimes walk into town, but usually not back out of town. You can almost always catch a ride with someone when you’re leaving town.

As we are coming down the hill, we see someone up ahead, walking out of town, which was weird. And then I instantly began freaking out. “That looks like Melissa,” I started thinking to myself. “It’s her body type, it’s her hair - length, color. The person walking even has the same jacket as her - bright purple, puffer style.” In my internal musings though, I apparently let it slip out loud, “That looks like her hair.” Without missing a beat, my sister said, “Yeah - it does.” We were thinking the same thing. As we approached we got more and more terrified, and then as we passed the person, I looked in my rearview mirror and my little sister turned around - it was Melissa. No doubt in our minds.

I floored it the rest of the way home, and we went inside, sounding like idiots. My mom told us we were crazy, but my sister and I stayed posted in her bedroom, looking out her window that looks down on the road - no one ever walked past our house, and no one who even remotely fits Melissa’s description lived in any of the 6 homes between the town and our house. I am convinced to this day that it was Melissa, just trying to get home to see her family. I never saw her after that, and I hope she’s found peace. Though I do still hightail it when driving at night from town to my house.

More Scary Stories Here Submit Your Scary Story Here

#ghost #ghost story #spirit #spirits #haunted #paranormal #supernatural #scary #spooky #creepy #hitchhiker #dead girl #dead

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cutegirlmayra · 7 years

Note

Hiiii! My friend and I really love your writing of Sonamy and she had this concept that she really wanted you to write: Concept: Eggman, in an attempt to ruin Sonic, invents literal nightmare fuel that slowly breaks down Sonic's ego and makes him feel powerless and afraid to sleep. He first tests this on Amy and after that, he tests it on the rest of the team...

I LOOOOVEEEE request like this!!! :DDD Thank you so much!!! It’s a plot, it’s depth, and it’s so cute~

Tell your friend she’s a mini-genius!!! :Db And thank you both for supporting me and my stories! Means a lot :’3

I hope I can do her idea justice, precious anon!

(x)

Prompt:

Eggman was using a drill-bot to carve it’s way into the deepest, darkest cave imaginable. All the way out in the middle of nowhere, Eggman peered inside the drilled, crumbled rock.

Only his glasses shone in that pitch darkness, as then his smiling teeth as he saw the object he desired, glowing with whisps of purple light, not like the aliens, but darker… more corrupted entities.

Back at his lab, he snorted, giggled, and squawked laughters as he pushed and pressed buttons like his fingers were dancers.

“At last! I’ve got it! I think I’ve got the code to trigger their power and centralize it into one … dream…” he rubbed his hands together, “Huhuhu… with these ‘nightmares’ I’ll have Sonic losing all hope! He’ll believe he’s a good-for-nothing! And I’ll be the emperor of the eggman empire in no time!~” he jumped to turn around and click his heels together, rushing over to the cylinder, clear tube that held the destructive creatures. They’re mouths opened to whispy daggers for teeth, and their purple, smokey bodies blinked with glares.

“There, there… my little evil critters~” he tapped his fingers to the glass, making them freak out and shake their hands, wanting to attack but returning to the urn which they were trapped inside.

“Hehehe~ Hohoho!!!” He billowed another loud laugh as he leaned his back into an arch in his joy.

But within that laughter, he realized something. “ho, ho?” he blinked his eyes, motioning his neck down. “But what if my test run doesn’t work? I’ll need to test my hypothesis on directing these little balls of terror before I actually unleash them on Sonic’s team! Hmm..” he rubbed his chin, thinking…

He suddenly smirked, turning to his computer.

“…Wasn’t Amy Rose tracking Sonic just a moment ago?”

—

Amy waddled through the forest, huffing and puffing in her weariness, tapping each tree she passed with the palm of her hand, as if checking to make sure she had stable support if she ever needed it.

She finally stood up straight, exhausted from a long day, and leaned her head back. “Ugh.. He’s traveled too far this time.” She moaned, before lowering her head with a heavy sigh. “And I was really hoping to spend time with him today…” she pouted, looking truly disappointed, but not that upset as she was used to sometimes failing on her ventures to find Sonic.

“He’s a tricky one.” she mused, picturing him dashing over large fields, defeating robots, and maybe even taking a second to stop and smile at a passing thought of her.

“Ha~~~” she sighed, melting at the idea of Sonic taking a second to think of her for a change.

—

Eggman positioned his gun perfectly, focusing the nightmartic spirits where he wanted their power concentrated.

“Eat her dreams alive, boys… woo-hohohho!” he laughed, and fired down once the gun rocked it’s way to have her in the center of it’s target. “Fire!”

Eggman’s gun sprung the spirit’s power, a misty purple smoke, straight through the atmosphere as it hit her in the back of her head, and spiraled down her body.

—

Amy suddenly felt a wave of sleepiness hit her upside the head, and all of a sudden, a strange aroma was pulling her to sit down… to rest… to take it easy…

“Wha-..what..?” she knew this wasn’t right, as she slowly came to her knees, and started to lay down. “H…Help…” she lightly rested her head down, as her whole body became too heavy to move, and too weak to stand…

There were puzzles under her feet, and as she looked down, she noticed some were glowing a bright, see-through gold.

“Amy…”

Amy looked up, before smiling happily towards Sonic, a little ways away on the same puzzle-piece floor she was on.

“Sonic!” Her voice echo’d in the empty space.

He looked upset, turning away from her. “You have to stop this mess.”

“…Ah… Mess?” she was confused, but she held her hands back, her feet paused from rushing towards him.

She had never seen such a shallow expression on his face before…

“I don’t want you always trying to find me! To hog my attention away from the world!” he swiped his hand out, looking more and more frustrated, as she stepped a foot back.

“…A-..Attention..?” She held her fists up to her chest, not sure what he was saying.

The puzzle-piece below her suddenly fell, as her foot almost fell through the crack.

She gasped as she pulled it up, looking down at the puzzle piece, and studying how it could have fallen…

As her eyes scanned, Sonic’s voice once again arose, this time much harsher and crueler than even she thought possible to imagine.

“This is it, Amy! I’m tried of letting you get away with what you want!”

“What I… want?” she turned around, her eyes shaking at his words.

“Sonic…” she could feel her heart breaking, her lips trembling as tears almost threatened her.

Around her, puzzle pieces on the floor started falling, strikes of lightning taking some of them out.

“I can’t stand it, Amy! I can’t stand you!” Sonic bit down on the word, glaring as he lunged himself forward.

“I WISH YOU WOULD JUST DISAPPEAR!”

As he threw his arm out, Amy felt the ground beneath her break and dip down, the puzzle pieces falling rapidly as she fell with them, reaching up for his cold, unfeeling expression as he watched her fall.

“Sonic…” her eyes widened, gripping her hands before forcing them apart and reaching up for him. “NOOO!!!!”

She disappeared into the darkness, hovering in the air.

“I don’t want to be alone… I don’t… I …” She gripped herself into a tight curl, but not fully a ball, as her hair and dress rippled in the mist of the empty space.

There was nothing now.

No sound but her own desperate cries.

Tears floated in the space around her.

“I… I don’t want to die without knowing…. knowing what it’s like… I don’t want to be alone… I don’t want to die alone!!!”

She threw her head up, screaming.

“SOOOONNNIICCCC!!!!”

The Sonic above, turned his head away, walking away from the surface.

Once absent from her sight, his face suddenly morphed to the snickering of the nightmaric spirit, chuckling with it’s jagged, spiked teeth; Sonic’s body myistifying into a purple smokey being.

—-

“Excellent!” Eggman jumped up from his seat, watching the activity of her vital signs and pulses, mental strain and brainwaves, the like; determining right then and there that his experiment was a success!

“Now, then! To the others!”

He pushed some buttons, as the gun flung around and shot the remaining nightmaric spirits to the different locations he punched in.

He twirled around with the gun, doing a little silly dance before looking back at his creation. “Tonight! Eggman industries presents a spectacular, dream-like experience you’ve NEVER dared to have before! WHOHOHOH!” as he laughed, the nightmaric spirits all gathered together in the tube, seeming to scheme, before turning to Eggman, and laughing creepishly towards him…

—

Sonic turned in his sleep, as did Tails and Knuckles, as each one had a horrific nightmare of their deepest, darkest fears.

Sonic was engulfed in water, unable to do anything, and for some reason, still able to breathe.

“Noo!” he cried out, trying to move upward, but only sinking as Amy and his friends were slashed through, shadowy silhouettes showing their last moments of life, and even Amy reaching down in the water to him, before red filled the water, dying it as it floated past him like curved paint in an oil canvas, swarming his being.

Powerless, Sonic watched the red surround him, polluting the water and gripping his throat.

He struggled to breathe now.

“N.. nmm!” he gripped his throat, his cheeks puffing up to try and remain with oxygen.

His arms flailed through the water, as suddenly he was pulled down into a dark abyss, his friend’s silhouettes being thrown into the water… Metal Sonic’s shadow… turning to stare down at him from a distance… at the surface.

Then, it shifted, turning into a nightmaric spirit’s face, and cackled as Sonic’s feet were limp, and weren’t able to kick him towards the surface of the water…

He closed his eyes, feeling life drain from him.

He was forced to be pulled under the water’s current…

—

Tails was trapped in a small cube, as he pounded on it and cried out to let him out, his X-Tornado turning on him and firing, causing lightning to spring out from it’s guns and attack the cube.

Tails threw up his arms, crying out as his mouth hung in utter fright.

He ducked down, unable to avoid as the X-Tornado went back up into the thunderstorm, and then spiraled down to let out a fresh new patch of lightning down upon his trapped self.

“Stop it!!!” Tails shouted out, as suddenly he heard Sonic’s piercing cry, and looked up.

“No!” Tails banged on the cube, “Sonic!”

Sonic,… Amy… Knuckles… they were all being struck by Lightning, and falling down, rising up as zombie like expressions on their faces, and walking towards him.

“You couldn’t help us, Tails…” Amy’s faint voice barely made it to his ears.

His eyes shook, scooting away from that side of the cube. “No…”

“You’re useless to me, Tails…” Sonic’s body kept hobbling towards the cube, his head going limp.

Tails shook in utter terror.

“You’re still a no one… not a friend of ours.” Knuckles’s arms stretched forward. “Now we’ll take you out… so the lightning can kill you too.”

They all piled the box.

“No…Stop… please…! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough! I’m sorry!!!”

The three nightmartic spirits chuckled, their faces shifting as Tails threw his hands over his head, his tails also encircling him in his great fear.

—

Knuckles struggled to try and keep his new family safe, but with each robot army that came, he turned to suddenly see them swiped down, out of existence, turning to nothing more than dust.

“Ah!” he rushed to them, gripping the dirt. “The last echidnas…” he was alone again, before looking up and seeing the robots break the Master Emerald, turning it into small fragments that they crushed to utter oblivion…

Their sparkling powder floated by him, as his eyes widened and they stung his open eyes.

“NOOO!!!”

Angel Island came crashing down, the robots self-destructing as suddenly the Island bent into itself, cracking and splitting, till lost in the sea…

Knuckles smashed the earth beneath him, before his shoulders bounced in his tears, and he laid down before the crashing sea…

“No…Rouge… Sonic… My friends… My family… The Master Emerald… I’ve failed them.. I’ve failed them all…”

Behind him, the robots faces turned to nightmaric spirits, laughing…

—

“WHHOHOHOHHO! BRILLIANT!” Eggman danced around in his lab, even going disco-funky with his actions. “Now, to take over the world!” He stuck a finger up, posing, before typing more coordinates.

But by this time… he hadn’t realized the Nightmares were growing with the dread and fear that came from their hosts… and they’re being morphed into Sonic, Amy, Tails, and Knuckles.

The remaining nightmare spirits laughed in their usual way, before breaking the cylinder tube… and going for Eggman.

“W-what?” he saw the gun stop firing, and turned around.

“No… no,… NOO!!” Eggman threw his hands up, as they chuckled and swarmed his being in their mist, knocking him out and diving into his dreams… their laughter never ceasing…

—

Sonic woke up in a cold sweat, blinking hard and breathing irregularly.

He touched his chest… no water.

Just the cold of the wind.

His eyes were heavy, but he shook his head, getting up.

“That was no dream…” Sonic concluded, and turned to look out away from him.

He heard someone shouting his name…

Suddenly, the sound became more clear as he gained control over his senses again…

“Amy!!!” he charged, bolting himself through the long distance to find where the echo was coming from.

It disturbed him, seeing he was awake, but her voice was bouncing off from everywhere.

The mountains didn’t help.

The valleys were worst.

He finally found her, collapsed under a tree, screaming out with tears pouring down her face.

“Tails! Knuckles! Someone help me!!!” she cried in her sleep, talking outloud.

“Hang on, Amy! Wake up! Snap out of it!” Sonic knelt down and shook her, before her eyes sprung up, and she fought him slightly away.

“Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me!”

Sonic, startled by the response, immediately pulled his hands away from her, backing away.

“Amy… it’s me… It’s Sonic..” he took a gentler tone, his eyes bending back as he worried his shaking had startled her to the point of possibly hurting her.

“Amy… You’re alright. It was just a dream.”

She breathed hard, gripping herself, looking around.

“It’s… it’s dark.”

He saw she was getting her senses back, and bent down again beside her, offering her his arms. “It’s cold too.”

She gripped him with a death-hold of pure, unfathomable terror.

She clung to him like her source of life, breathing rapidly off measure, and having her heartbeat influence his own rapidly beating one.

“You’re alright, Amy. I don’t know what’s going on. But I’m worried about Tails and the others.” He gently held her, before feeling her tremble and lightly moving his hand to her head, stroking it to try and still her.

“You’re alright. I’m here… Whatever that was… Whatever thing possessed us… I won’t let it get away with this.”

He found some relief in having her around… at least he knew he wasn’t dreaming anymore either.

She nodded, finally calming down to a regular breath, before wiping her eyes and finally letting him go.

“My dream… While I was sinking into the dark… I heard Tails, and Knuckles laughing too. Everyone was laughing.”

“Mine too.” Sonic could only recall the deformed image of Metal Sonic, his eyes glowing… his face turning to a jagged grin…

He looked away from her a moment, considering the possibility… “Maybe we were all trapped under the same dreams…”

“Why do you say that?” Amy looked more directly to him, confused.

“Because I was sinking too.”

Amy let out a pity groan, lightly, as if feeling empathy for him.

“I’m fine.” He lied, patted her head again, trying more to sooth her than himself.

“We… we need to stick together. To find the others.” He wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t want to leave her side. Fear still gripped him. He wasn’t letting her out of his sights.

Tails and Knuckles were both awakened, and the only explanation to the increased power source that night, from Tails’s readings, were coming from Eggman’s base.

“I didn’t know he had a base way out here.” Sonic saw the robots smashed against the side of the doors… the doors wide open… the halls showing wired ripped robots…

“Something came in.” Knuckles tightened his fists, getting ready…

“No…” Sonic stopped walking, turning seriously with a knowing look towards the broken cylinder. “Something got out.”

Eggman groaned.

The four all turned to him, laying down, up against his control station.

“I don’t want to be alone.. without a cause, please! Let me destroy you a little longer! I promise! I’ll be better! Don’t go! Don’t leave me without a purpose!!!”

He tossed his head desperately, before Amy walked over, taking her hammer out.

“Amy.” Sonic cautioned, worried what she would do with him.

She saw his arm extended, and nodded, “I’m just waking him up.” she answered over her shoulder, looking back to him. “No one deserves the nightmares we’ve all endured…”

No one disputed her.

Amy whacked Eggman on the head, light enough that it wasn’t painful, but still enough to snap him out of it.

He woke up, flinching, sweat trailing down his bald forehead.

“Wha..where… where am I?”

“Alive.” Sonic almost spoke through his teeth. “Now… tell us where they are?”

“You’re not good enough.”

The team turned around, seeing the nightmaric spirits, all morphed into their figures, even an Eggman one, raising their heads with smirks.

“You’re pathetic!” The Tails spirit stated, right after the Sonic one spoke.

“Pitiful.” The Amy spirit spat out.

“Worth less than dirt!” The Eggman spirit swished a ghostly hand out, purple mist trailing it’s action.

The five stood tall,.. there was a moment of silence… as more hurtful and piercing insults stung at their pride and their hearts.

“…Sonic.” Eggman dipped his head down, but clearly addressing him. “I wouldn’t normally say this… but… circumstances as they are-”

“We’ll fight them.” Sonic spoke carefully, but quickly.

He nodded his head, “Together.”

Eggman turned to him, seeing the forgiveness and nodded, turning back to the nightmare spirits.

“That urn in my large, broken flask is the only thing that can trap them.”

“We have to conquer our fears then.” Amy threw her arm back, her hammer positioned and ready to strike as she bent her knees. Ready.

“We have to stand together.” Tails also prepared himself. Ready.

“I may be able to forgive Eggman… but not you creeps!” Knuckles bashed his fists together, shouting loudly his war cry. Ready.

Sonic… was not ready.

He clenched his fist, as Amy could see.

His nightmaric spirit tilted his head, smirking as it narrowed it’s eyes.

“…Sonic.” Amy gently put her hand to his.

He twitched his head up, looking to her.

He was surprised at first, but nodded in understanding.

He wasn’t going to fail his friends.

He wasn’t going to be useless.

He was going to fight.

And he was going to win!

His friends would be just fine.

“Ready!” Sonic called to them, looking fierce with a renewed, confident smile.

“READY!” They all charged, as Eggman looked around, and sprang up to follow after them, swinging a fist to his nightmaric spirit.

“AHHH!!!” he went right through him, as the other spirit laughed, hitting him down.

“Grr.. Oh, I get it.” Eggman got back up. “I’m worth twice as many evil villains as you!” He threw his fist again.

The spirit looked confused, startled into freezing still, as the fist made it disappear, and it’s purple mist came back into the urn.

“Heheh~” Eggman boasted, blowing on his fist to get the remaining purple trail off of it.

Sonic spin dashed, “I’m the hero of my own story!” the other Sonic vanished in a similar manner, returning to the urn.

Sonic struck a pose, his hand flared up as he landed and uncurled, smiling his signature cocky grin.

“I’m not worthless, I’m ten times smarter than you!” Tails threw a wrench into the spirit, as it trailed back into the urn.

“I’m not alone!!” Knuckles whammed into his spirit, “My duty isn’t over yet!” as it returned to the urn.

“I’m… I’m…” Amy was still under the nightmares influence, as it waited, before knocking her down in impatience.

“Offph!”

“Amy!”

The team gathered around her, even Eggman, helping her up.

She looked around her, seeing her friends right by her side.

She turned to the spirit, eyes fixed in her resolve.

“I’m… Strong.”

She took out the spirit as it returned to the urn.

The urn was placed back in the cave, sealed up by Eggman.

He crossed his heart in a gesture to Sonic and his friends, showing he wouldn’t go near that cave ever again…

(I tried to keep it canon, what do you think? :) )

#sonamy #sonicxamy #sonic prompt #sonamy prompt #cutegirlmayra #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sega #amy rose #knuckles #amy #knuckles the echidna #tails the fox #miles tails prower

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